1 Boy, 7 Billion Dead Guys Season One: TV Show Season One
by Spacedragon1999
Summary: After wandering into Atlanta, Jack Mckenzie is saved by a cop in the middle of a zombie apocalypse. Can he survive with his new group? OC X Sophia Sophia will have her own personality. DISCLAIMER: I don't own the Walking Dead
1. Days Gone Bye

I know it's not smart to write 3 stories at the same time, but I can't help it.

Anyway, let's get started.

**Chapter 1**

I stumbled into the city with what little hope I had left. I had nothing left to live for, so why did I keep going?

My mum had died in that damn plane crash.

My brother had been gunned down like some dog.

I had no way out. No way back home. Maybe it wasn't so bad there. But that wasn't the worst part of the past month. That wasn't what kept entering my nightmares.

My dad had gotten bitten. Not by a dog, or even a lion, but by a man. A dead man. He chomped on my dad's arm, who blew his brains over the pale grass, but it was too late.

We had taken shelter in an abandoned warehouse and slumped against the slimy walls, stared at the bright moon and waited. With every passing minute he got weaker, more pale, more sweaty, more brittle. When it was over, I picked up his Colt Python (AN: Rick's gun) and shoved it into my holster before walking off. Days spent shooting dead and animals, days spent starving on what little I could scavenge, days spent jamming my knife into heads with a squelch, it was all getting too much, until I found a pinned notice and map on a rotted wooden pole.

ALL SURVIVORS HEAD TO ATLANTA FOR SUPPLIES AND EVACUATION

Damn, I've gotta stop thinking about this crap, I thought before trudging on. Atlanta was nothing like how I'd expected it. I'd expected herds of survivors, army soldiers, lines for food and water. I found herds all right. Of slimy rotten filthy corpses. Herds of flies. No living. Despite this, I pushed onward, one hand one my knife; if there was one thing I'd learned about these monsters, it was that they loved noise. And flesh, juicy flesh. Ignoring the buzzing of the flies and the stench of chewed up rotting flesh and guts, I turned the corner, only to see a million undead monsters groaning and shuffling towards me hungrily.

"Oh," I said before turning casually around to the way I came, with even more waiting for me. "Fuck my life."

I scrambled down the nearest alleyway and hopped over the rubbish and debris into the next road, with dead on all sides. My heart sped up, my blood froze and my hands got clammy. For the first time it occured to me, hitting home with deadly force.

I was going to die here. I was going to be chewed up, gnawed on like those rabbits my dad brought back from hunting, and would turn into one of those... things. Those... monsters. I was going to become one of them and there wasn't anything I could do about it. Then, a miracle happened.

Some guy came rushing down the street, chased by his own group, and the dead on his side turned course for him. He fell off the horse when he got surrounded and rushed over to me.

"Come on, kid," he told me and dragged me along before pulling out a Colt Python and blasting off heads, going straight for the tank. For a moment I thought he had taken mine before noticing it was still in my holster. Jerking my hand away, I pulled it out and killed some of them myself before we hopped down onto our stomachs and crawled under the tank. We blasted off a few dead heads and ran out quick, but those monsters just would not let up.

We were trapped.

The man pointed his gun to his head and muttered, "Lori, Carl, I'm sorry," before pulling himself up through a hole in the tank, something neither of us had noticed. Following his lead, I closed the 'door' and slumped against the side wall, him on the front, with a dead guy.

After the monster turned and groaned at him, he pointed his gun under its throat and fired.

The sharp screech of bullet coming out the monster's skull and hitting the steel wall was deafening. We both jammed our hands up against our ears and once the white noise faded I commented, "Y'know, close-quarters is what a knife is for," flashing my own. The man looked dumbstruck at seeing a mere twelve year old kitted out with a survival knife, finger guards included (like Carol's knife in season 4), a revolver, and a few chocolate bars, along with a bottle of clean water, warm, but better than going thirsty. I noticed the guy was a cop from his uniform. "What, never seen a kid kill some dead before? Didn't seem to bothered outside."

He just stared for a bit before asking concernedly,"Hey, what's your name, by the way?"

"Jack Mckenzie," I replied, offering my hand. He took it, saying, "Rick Grimes. Y'alright?" I shrugged nonchalantly.

"Fine, I've been doing this for a month, since the dead up and walked off. I'm more concerned about yourself; you looked like it was your first day in all this."

"Second, actually," he told me, looking me right in the eye. My jaw fell.

"For real? Where the hell have you been? China?" Rick chuckled at my response before speaking.

"In a coma. I got shot in the line of duty, woke up. Everyone was dead. Hey, where's your parents?" he questioned worriedly. I tensed up. I was past crying; I'd found that the best way to move on was to let it all out first chance you got, then kept moving. Still, it was a hard subject. Especially Patrick. Damn, I thought before lowering my eyes.

"Same as everyone else's," I told him coldly. I must've sounded too cold because Rick flinched, but thankfully he changed the subject.

"Sorry," he said and I could tell from his tone that he really meant it. "Y'know that accent is pretty strong. Mind tellin' me where you're from?" I chortled a little. That's exactly what Talisker said. Talisker. That son of a bitch. If I ever saw him again I'd... I noticed I still hadn't answered Rick's questioned.

"Oh, uh, Scotland. Near Glasgow, actually." Rick smiled good-naturedly. "How about you? Where's your family?" A determined light glowed in his eyes.

"My wife and son? I thought they were here. Heard about some refugee centre. Apparently not. But I'll find them. Ain't no man who'll stop me gettin' to them." The hope in those brown eyes was so undeniably strong I admired him for it. I gave him a wolfish grin before tapping his arm.

"Well how about we get started? Any idea on how to get outta here?" I asked him and the leadership aura strengthened. Before we could get looking a crackle sounded from a walkie-talkie hanging from a rucksack.

"Hey, you," a voice rung around the metal innards of the tank. "Yeah the two of you in the tank. Cosy in there?"

Rick leaped over and snatched up the walkie, frantically saying, "Hello, hello?"

"Ah, good," the man relaxed. "You had me wondering."

"Where are you?" demanded Rick. "Outside? Can you see us right now?"

"No duh, Sherlock," I muttered in an American accent, smirking at Rick's confused look. The man on the radio spoke up.

"Yeah, I can see you. You're surrounded by walkers. That's the bad news."

"There's good news?" I asked loudly.

"... no."

"Listen, whoever you are, I don't mind telling you, we're a little concerned in here," Rick urged.

"Oh, man," the guy chuckled. "You two should see it from over here. You'd both be having a major freak out."

"What makes you think we're not already?" I asked after laughing. Rick waved me off.

"Got any advice for us?"

"Yeah. I'd say make a run for it."

"That's it?" Rick demanded. "Make a run for it?"

"Simple," I commented simply.

"Yeah, it's not as bad as it seems," the guy said. "You've got eyes on the outside here. You've got one geek on the tank, but the others have joined the feeding frenzy where the horse went down. With me so far?"

"So far."

"Ok, the street on the other side of the tank is less crowded. If you move now while they're distracted, you might stand a chance. You got ammo?"

I pulled out the soldier's gun and checked the clip before tossing it to Rick, telling him, "Beretta, 15 rounds and 6 rounds for my Python." I started reloading.

Rick repeated my information and said,"I've also got a duffel bag with guns out there, can I get to it?"

"Forget the bag, okay? It's not an option." Rick's face fell. "Make your ammo count. Jump off the right side of the tank and keep moving in that direction. There's an alley up the street, maybe fifty yards. Be there."

"Hey, what's your name?" Rick asked and I rolled my eyes. It wasn't important right now; we needed to keep moving! I got up and noticed a pineapple grenade in the soldier's other pocket. Picking it up, I tossed it to Rick.

"Weren't you listening? You're running out of time!" Rick dropped the walkie and picked up a small shovel before opening the hatch and whacking the walker on the tank on the forehead comically. Raising my knife, I followed his lead.

The stench of undead flesh filled my nostrils once more as I leapt off the tank alongside Rick and we both crashed onto our fronts.

"Probably not the beat idea," I muttered sarcastically whilst getting to my feet, Python in my right hand, knife in my left, icepick-grip. As we sprinted down the pavement Rick fired off a few shots and it got on my goddamn nerves. They weren't even that close. The only one out of the eleven rounds that mattered hit the walker blocking our way. The adrenaline was pumping through my veins and I went faster. As we turned into the alley an Asian man with a baseball shirt and red cap raised his hands.

"Whoa! Not dead!" he said hurriedly. "Come on, come on!" and we ran down to a fire escape. "Faster!" he urged as he worked on getting the ladder down; it seemed pretty stiff. Rick held off the way we came and I took down the five closest walkers on the opposite side, leaving the last for myself. Once the ladder was down we all scrambled up it and one walker grabbed my leg. I stabbed its arm and booted its face before flying up.

We reached the first flight and rested against the rail, taking deep breaths.

"Y'alright?" Rick asked me. I nodded as reassuringly as possible with a hand to my chest.

"Nice moves there, Clint Eastwood," the Asian guy muttered with some sarcasm of his own. "You the new sheriff? Come ridin' in to clean up the town." I snickered at the comment.

"That wasn't exactly my intention," Rick said, trying to justify his gunslinging behaviour and failing.

"Yeah, whatever, yeehaw, you're still a dumbass."

"Seconded," I agreed. The Asian dude grinned from ear to ear.

"I like you, kid."

"Rick. Thanks."

"Jack. Same."

"Glenn. You're both welcome." Then we noticed the walkers somehow managing to cling to the ladder and climb in a way. Glenn hopped over to the ladder leading up to the roof and tried to reassure us with, "The bright side? It'll be the fall that kills us. I'm a glass-half-full kinda guy." Then we climbed up, leaving the snarlling beasts in our wake.

While we crossed the rooftops Rick asked, "You the one barricaded the alley?"

"Somebody did," Glenn replied. "I guess when the city got overrun. Whoever did it was thinking not many geeks would get through." We reached a hatch and Glenn opened it.

"Back at the tank why'd you stick your neck out for us?"

"Call it foolish, naive hope, that if I'm ever that far up shit creek, somebody might do the same for me." The he grinned on the ladder. "Guess I'm an ever bigger dumbass than you."

Once we got out the building and onto the staircase Glenn raised his walkie. "I'm back. Got two guests, plus four geeks in the alley." When we reached the bottom two walkers were waiting for us, snarling and growling. I guess the other two were down the side alley. Before they could feast, however, two men in makeshift body armour busted through a door on the other side and beat them in the heads with baseball bats, blood oozing from their smashed skulls. "Come on," Glenn said and we followed him through the door. To the biggest threat of all: people.

A blond woman grabbed Rick by his shirt and tossed him up against a crate. "Son of a bitch! We oughta kill you!" she threatened darkly. The Hispanic man, Morales, told her, "Just chill out, Andrea. Back off." But Andrea didn't move an inch.

"Are you kidding me? We're dead because of this stupid asshole! And his little friend!" She was almost shouting now. I took out my Python and shoved it against her temple. No-one hurts my friends and Rick and Glenn were the closest things to it right now.

"Morales told you, 'back off'. I got one bullet left. You want me to put it in you? Let Rick go," I threatened coldly, a dark lining in the undertone. Everyone turned and stared at me incredulously, including Andrea, but I gave her my darkest death glare, the effect heightened by my somewhat longish black hair covering my left eye. Andrea considered things for a moment, and lowered her gun, tears threatening to fall from her eyes.

"We're dead," she asserted weakly, as though giving up, and I holstered my Python, my face softening slightly. "All of us. Because of you." Rick slowly eased off the crate.

"I don't understand," he said confusedly. I rolled my eyes again, and Morales put a hand on his back, shoving him deeper into the store while Andrea, a huge black man and a black woman with her hair done in a bob followed them alongside me as Morales voiced my thoughts.

"You know the key to scavenging? Surviving. You know the key to surviving? Tip-toeing. Not shooting up the streets like it's the OK Corral!" and we reached the front room. Dozens of walkers were smacking the first set of front doors, moaning and snarling. Glass front doors. My heartbeat got faster. We were trapped. Like a bunch of fucking rats.

"Son of a bitch," I commented quietly.

"Every geek for miles around heard the both of you pumping off rounds," said the big black dude.

"Yep," said Andrea pessemistically. "You two just rang the dinner bell. Get the picture now, Rick?"

One walker slammed a rock into the doors and we backed up from the cracks.

"The hell were you two doing out there, anyway?" demanded Andrea curiously.

"I was trying to flag the helicopter," Rick answered.

"What? There wasn't any helicopter out there man," I told him and he shot me a questioning look.

The black woman said, "You were scared, imagining things, it happens."

"I saw it!" Rick insisted.

"T-dog was up on the roof when you got ambushed, along with Jacqui. There couldn't have been a helicopter," Morales informed us and turned to me. "But if you two aren't together, then where the hell did you come from?" and all eyes turned to me.

"I found a note about the refugee camp and came looking to survive," I explained. "But when I got here, I was surrounded on all sides. The walkers decided the horse was a better meal and Rick grabbed me before we went into the tank. You all know the rest."

"Hey, T-dog," said Morales. "Try that CB. Try to flag the others."

"Others?" questioned Rick. "The refugee centre?"

"Yeah, the refugee centre," said Jacqui sarcastically. "They got biscuits at the oven waiting for us."

"Got no signal," muttered T-dog. "Maybe the roof." The gunshots were heard.

"Oh no," complained Andrea. "Was that Dixon?"

And we all headed up.

...

Hit the review button.

SD OUT


	2. Guts

Here's chappie 2. Enjoy it!

**Chapter 2**

As we rushed up the stairs more gunshots could be heard. Whoever this 'Dixon' guy was, he was either one crazy motherfucker or one doped-up motherfucker. Either way, I already hated his guts.

"There better be walkers up there, or I'm gonna break this bastard's skull," I grunted whilst breathing heavily.

"Knowing Dixon, probably not," replied Andrea. "Most likely high, as usual."

"Who the hell has time to get high in the apocalypse, anyhow?" I asked.

"Merle," said the group collectively.

"Merle Dixon?!" I exclaimed incredulously. "Sounds like a fucking redneck."

"Biker redneck," corrected T-Dog. "Fuckin' racist asshole into the bargain."

"Great," I muttered sarcastically.

Then we bust through the door to the sight of a crudely-shaved, half-bald man in his 40s with a shaved head, a leather vest and jeans firing a sniper rifle at the walkers below. What a goddamn idiot.

"Hey, Dixon, are you crazy?" shouted Morales as we dashed across the steel walkway, a furious expression etched deep into each and every one of our faces. If that junkie didn't stop firing that bloody rifle the walkers would never leave. After another shot Merle stopped firing and turned around to face the rest of the group, a cocky grin splotched on his smug face. I so wanted to gut this bastard, and I'd only known of his unfortunate existence on this dead-infested planet for little more than a few seconds. How could anyone put up with this guy for a month, on top of the dead walking around?

"Wahey!" Merle greeted as he hopped down from the nearby ledge. "Oughta be more polite to a man with a gun, huh? Only common sense." Yeah, so's staying away from drugs and not treating people like crap, but you don't seem to care about that, do you? T-Dog ran over to him.

"Man, you wastin' bullets we ain't even got, man! And you bring 'em all down here on our ass, man! Just chill!" he yelled indignantly. Dixon looked half-amused, half-insulted.

"Hey, bad enough I've got this taco bender on my ass all day!" he shouted back. "Now I've gotta take orders from you? I don't think so, bro. That'll be the day!" Uh-oh! This wasn't going to end well. T-Dog narrowed his eyes.

"That'll be the day?" he asked Merle, who nodded back with his tongue against his cheek. "You got somethin' you wanna tell me?" I noticed everyone was standing back cautiously, as though one of the two held a grenade. This must happen often. I kept one hand on my knife.

"Look, T-Dog, man, just leave it, alright," urged Morales weakly. "It ain't worth it. Now, Merle, just relax, okay? We've got enough trouble."

"Nah," said T-Dog, holding his hand out to prevent Morales from getting in between them. What was he thinking? T-Dog was a black city fella. Merle was a white supremacist who just so happened to be doped out of his tiny mind and was wielding a high-powered rifle.

"You wanna know the day?" asked Merle.

"Yeah," insisted T-Dog. I put my hands against my ears and closed my eyes, thinking about my puppy, Dexter. Sweet, adorable little Dexter. I tried to block out the argument, but I heard it. One final sentence.

"I'll tell you the day Mr.'Yo', it's the day I take orders from a nigger."

That did it. My eyes snapped open and my hands dropped to my sides.

"Motherfu-" started T-Dog as he tried to punch Merle but Dixon clocked in the face with the butt of his rifle before getting on him and continously pounding him with his fists.

Then all hell broke loose.

Andrea kept yelling a Merle while Rick told him, "Alright, Merle, that's enough!" and tried to get to him but Dixon turned around and knocked him flat with one punch. I jumped onto Merle's back and pulled him to the ground, digging my teeth into his shoulder. Dixon cried out and threw me over the edge of the building.

I grabbed onto the half-crumbed ledge with my fingertips and I felt as though I was already falling. I could barely hold on. My brain was thumping. My heart was smashing against my ribs. I screamed from the stress on my fingers and noticed Merle's gun pointed right at my forehead.

The redneck looked over at the rest of the group and shouted, "Yeah! Yeah! Alright!" in victory in the wake of their whimpers of protest. "We're gonna have ourselves a little pow-wow, huh? Talk about who's in charge!" I snorted despite my pain. "I vote me! Anybody else?" Nobody said a word. "Democracy time, y'all. Show of hands, huh?" I could imagine them raising their hands one by one. He looked down at me and said, "All in favour, huh?"

"Go to hell, you inbred prick," I spat at him; a final desperate show of rebellion. Dixon grinned evilly, and fired his gun at the piece of roof next to my left hand, which flew off the edge, and immediately the strain became 5 times more unbearable. The sharp stones tore through my skin and lodged themselves there, but I didn't even notice; I was too pre-occupied with the tens of stories I knew I would fall to my death through. I screamed from the pain again as Merle turned back to the group.

"Anybody else, hm?" He actually sounded interested. "Anybody?"

"Yeah."

Merle turned around only to be smack in the face with his own rifle by Rick, who then proceeded to drag him to the pipe and cuff him but I didn't care.

My heartbeat rushed.

My blood ran cold.

My skin went clammy.

My fingers slipped and I fell.

But just as my fingers went over he edge I felt another hand grasp my own. I grunted as T-Dog pulled me up. I muttered my thanks as Rick seized Merle by his vest and pulled him into his face. Merle protested with a weak," Who the hell are you man?"

"Officer Friendly." I snorted at Rick's sarcasm. He unclipped and reclipped Dixon's pistol and told him, "Look here, Merle. Things are different now. There are no _'niggers'_ anymore."

"No dumb-as-shit, inbred white-trash fools, either," I input.

"That's right. Only dark meat and white meat. There's us and the dead. We survive this by pulling together, not apart."

Merle looked Rick in the eye and said, "Screw you, man."

Rick sighed. "I can see you make a habit of missing the point."

"Yeah? Well, screw you twice."

I ran in and shoved my Python into his mouth, quoting him, "Oughta be more polite to a man with a gun. Only common sense."

Dixon looked back at Rick and grunted as coherently as he could, "You wouldn't let him. You're a cop."

"All I am any more is a man looking for his wife and son. Anyone who gets in the way of that's gonna lose." Rick's tone chilled my blood. "We'll give you a moment to think about that." I took my revolver out of Merle's gob and wiped it on his stained, raggedy top while Rick took a bag out of his pocket, full of white powder which even I could easily recognise as cocaine. He muttered, "Got some on your nose there," and flicked said nose before stalking off.

Merle grunted tiredly, "What're ya gonna do? Arrest me?" and chuckled until Rick tossed the cocaine over the side. "Hey! Hey, man, that's my stuff! Hey!" He continued to yell at Rick, who walked over to the side and leaned on the edge. I sat down on the steel walkway and sighed as Morales went to join him.

"My God, it's like Times Square down there," Andrea commented in awe.

I snorted. "More like Buchanan Street on pay day when you're down in amongst it. Now that's a sight to see."

"How's that signal?" Morales asked T-Dog, coming back from their conversation.

"Like Dixon's brain: weak." We all shared a chuckle as Merle gave T-Dog the finger.

"Keep trying."

"Why?" interjected Andrea. "There's nothing they can do. Not a damn thing," then went to check her rucksack while Morales explained.

"Got some people outside the city is all. There's no refugee centre. That's a pipe dream." My heart sunk with the confirmation.

"Like we didn't figure that out by now," I muttered bitterly.

"Then she's right," Rick established. "We're on our own. Up to us to find a way out."

"Good luck with that," Merle interrupted. "These streets ain't safe in this part o' town is what I hear." Then he leaned over to Andrea. "Ain't that righ Sugartits? Hey, Honeybunch. What say you get me outta these cuffs, we go off somewhere and bump sone uglies? Gonna die anyway."

"I'd rather," Andrea retorted tiredly, then went back to the others.

"Rug muncher," he muttered disappointedly. "Figured as much."

"These streets ain't safe!" scoffed Morales. "Now there's an understatement."

"What about under the streets?" Rick suggested. "The sewers?"

"Oh, man. Hey, Glenn, check the alley. You see any manhole covers?" The Asian hurried over to the edge and looked down. After a second he rushed back.

"No. Must be all out on the street; where the geeks are."

"Hold on a sec," I interjected. "Aren't buildings like this from the 20s?"

"Yeah," continued Jacqui. "Big structures often had drainage tunnels into the sewers in case of flooding. Down in the sub-basements."

"How do you know that?" Glenn asked her incredulously.

"It's my job. Was. I worked in the city zoning office."

He turned to me and I answered, "History class. 'Nuff said."

...

In the sub-basements we (besides T-Dog and Merle, obviously) gathered around a ladder leading deep into the sewer. The sound of dripping water was amplified by the echo.

"This is it?" asked Morales. "Are you sure?"

"I really scoped this place out the other times I was here," said Glenn. "It's the only thing in the building that goes down. But I've never gone down it. Who'd want to, right?" All eyes went to him. "Oh. Great."

"We'll be right behind you," Andrea tried to reassure him but his eyes widened.

"No, you won't. Not you."

"Why not me?" she demanded. "Think I can't?"

"I wasn't... " he trailed off.

Rick gripped his shoulder comfortingly and said, "Speak your mind."

"Look," Glenn sighed. "Until now, I always came here by myself. In and out, grab a few things, no problem. The first time I bring a group, everything goes to hell. No offense." He directed the last part to me and Rick. "If you want me to go down this gnarly hole, fine. But we're gonna do it my way. It's tight down there. If I run into something, have to get out quick, I don't want you all jammed up behind me, gettting me killed. I'll take one person." Rick was about to volunteer but Glenn shot him down. "Not you either. You've got Merle's gun and I've seen you shoot," he explained. "I'd feel better if you were in the store, watching that door, covering our ass." Rick nodded in understanding as Glenn turned to Andrea and me. "You two've got the only other guns so you should go with him. You be my wingman," he announced, pointing at Morales. "Jacqui stays here. Something happens, yell down to us, get us back up here in a hurry."

"Okay, everybody knows their jobs," Rick asserted. Then Glenn and Morales went down into the filthy hole, sewege emanating from its pungent odours.

...

As Rick, Andrea and I went back into the store the walkers were still pounding on the glass doors, groaning for food and snarling quiet threats of death.

"Sorry for the gun in your face," apologised Andrea.

"People do things when they're afraid," Rick comforted.

"Crazy things," I added.

"Not that it was entirely unjustified," she informed us. "You two _did_ get us into this."

"If I get us out, would that make up for it," Rick asked.

"No," she replied honestly. "But it'd be a start."

"Next time though, take the safety off. It won't shoot otherwise."

"Oh." Then he walked over to her.

"Is that your gun?"

"It was a gift," she told him. "Why?" Rick held out his hand for the pistol and she handed it too him. Then he flipped he safety off.

"Little red dot means it's ready to fire. You may have occassion to use it."

"Good to know," Andrea muttered back and we went our seperate ways.

...

I was checking out a necklace.

It was white gold with a purple crystal pendant surrounded by a silver spiral design. It was beautiful. I felt a magical draw to it, pulling me close, instilling a desire to take it with me.

Andrea came over to me.

"Hey," she greeted. "Like it?"

"Yeah," I replied. "Feel I should take it for some reason, like it's important."

"Then take it," she encouraged. "Like Rick said, it's not exactly looting; those rules don't apply anymore." Then she walked away after giving me a comforting smile.

I took the necklace and fondled the pendant for a while before stashing it in the inside pocket of my leather jacket, which looked more like a trench coat on me, having it been given to me from my father.

"Are you alright, Jack?" Rick asked me with a slight frown. I knew he was referring to the events on the rooftop. I inwardly shuddered at the reminder. No living person had come that close to killing me for a week and a day.

"Yeah, sure," I told him even though I knew he could see right through me. "I might only be twelve, but I can take care of myself." He nodded carefully.

"Alright," he said defeatedly. "Your hand's tore right through, though. We'll need to get it checked before infection can set in badly." I looked down at it. There were cuts all over, barely discernable through the blanket of blood. Some chips were still stuck. It hurt like hell but I gritted my teeth and ignored it.

"What we _need_ is a way out," I told him forcefully. "Forget my hand, Rick. I'll sort it out when we get to this camp." I was glaring a little, knowing it matured my features. Mixed with the hair and the overall look, most people flinched if I did it strongly enough. My friend nodded dejectedly.

SMASH!

The three of us ran up to the doors and raised our guns as Morales, Glenn and Jacqui came running up to us.

"What'd you find down there, guys?" I asked quickly.

"Not a way out," Morales informed us. Damn.

"We need to find a way," Andrea said. "Soon."

"No time left," I added. "Let's get to the roof."

...

Rick looked down the street with a pair of binoculars before handing them to Morales.

"That construction site," he told us. "Those trucks. They always keep keys on hand."

Morales took a look himself before shaking his head and saying, "You'll never make it past the walkers."

"You got us out of that tank," Rick said to Glenn.

"Yeah, but they were feeding," he argued. "They were distracted."

"Can we distract them again?"

"Hey, listen to him," Merle mocked. "He's onto something. A diversion, like on 'Hogan's Heroes'."

"Oh, will you shut it you junkie hick!" I shouted angrily. I was tired of his bullshit. "You're giving us all a headache!" I smacked him upside the head and dodged his punch.

"They're drawn by sound, right?" inquired Rick.

"Right, like dogs," answered Glenn. "They hear a sound, they come."

"What else?"

"Aside from they hear you," said Morales. "They see you, smell, and if they catch you, they eat you."

"They can tell us by smell?"

"Can't you?" Glenn demanded.

"They smell dead, we don't," Andrea explained. "It's pretty distinct."

"So, if you smelled like a walker," I began. "They would just ignore you?"

"I guess so," Morales said. "In theory. Why?" Rick and I looked at each other. We had the same idea.

"Well, this'll be fun."

...

"If bad ideas were an Olympic event, this would take the gold," Glenn commented as Rick threw us all canvas lab coats and rubber gloves.

"He's right," Morales insisted. "Just stop, okay? Take some time to think this through."

"In case you haven't noticed, a bunch of mindless dead cannibals are gonna come busting through those any second, trapping us in this prison," I told him, pointing to the doors. "It's not an amazing idea but what other choice do we have?"

After a walker corpse was brought in Rick smashed the axe case and took it out. We were all dressed on those lab coats and surrounding the sprawled-out walker. He was about to hack into the walker's stomach but instead dropped to his knees and took out the walker's wallet before reading it out loud.

"Wayne Dunlap," he announced sorrowfully. "Georgia license. Born in 1979." He took out a photograph an handed Glenn the card before continuing. "He had $28 in his pocket when he died. And a picture of a pretty girl." He looked at the back of the picture. "'With love, from Rachel.' He used to be like us; worrying about bills, or the rent, or the Super Bowl. If I ever find my family, I'm gonna tell them about Wayne." That touched my heart and I thought for a second about the pasts of each walker, each human being. Rick picked up the axe again before Glenn interrupted.

"One more thing. He was an organ donor."

Inside I felt guilty. This man had given a lot, now we were taking from him. I didn't care what Rick said, we were looting this man's corpse. But my thoughts were driven out in an instant as soon as Rick chopped into Wayne's stomach time and time again and the stench of rotting guts fired into my nostrils. Andrea exclaimed in revulsion while Morales muttered, "Madre de Dios." I stood there, simly inhaling the stink, even when Rick hacked off Wayne's leg. After a few more he handed the axe to Morales and told him, "Keep chopping."

"Ah, I'm so gonna hurl," Glenn complained.

"Later." The smell and squelching was almost overwhelming now and I scrunched up my face. Everyone kept on groaning and it wasn't helping.

Once Morales was done Rick asked, "Everybody got gloves? Right, don't get any on your skin or in your eyes."

"Or mouth," I interjected. "I hear the local delicacy tastes like shit." Everyone else moaned and threw me dirty looks to which I just grinned wolfishly before sticking my right hand (covered in a glove) into Wayne's stomach, which squelched and crunched under my fingers and pulled out some guts, wiping them on Rick's lab coat. The group followed my example, before too long both Rick and Glenn were covered in Wayne's dead intestines. Glenn couldn't take it and puked all over the wall after Rick told him to think about puppies and kittens and T-Dog added on, "Dead puppies and kittens."

Andrea looked at Glenn sympathetically and glared at T-Dog. "That is just evil," she commented. "What is wrong with you?"

"Next time, let the cracker beat his ass," Jacqui told Rick.

"I'm sorry, yo," T-Dog apologised. "You suck," Glenn replied.

"Do we smell like them?" Rick asked with a repulsed frown.

Andrea looked the two of them up and down and said, "Oh, yeah."

"Yeah, and if Glenn keeps spilling his guts at that rate he'll be one," I joked. "So you shouldn't have any problem." Andrea tucked her pistol into Glenn's jeans.

"If we make it back, be ready," Rick ordered.

"What about Merle Dixon?" T-Dog inquired. In reply Rick tossed him the handcuff keys.

"Give me the axe," he said. Morales did so. "We're gonna need more guts."

...

After taking off the lab coats and gloves we watched Rick and Glenn stumble through the street, axe in Rick's hand and crowbar in Glenn's. The plan seemed to be working as the walkers merely sniffed at them before turning away. T-Dog was slumped against the rooftop wall, talking into the CB.

"Base camp, this is T-Dog. Anybody hear me?" he kept on repeating. Thunder clapped loudly/

"That's not good," I commented, regarding the weather. Merle shook at the cuffs.

"That asshole is out on the street with the handcuff keys?" he asked worriedly. T-Dog sneered and flashed the key and Dixon's face was enraged, but he shut up. Eventually a voice sounded on the CB.

"Hello? Hello? Reception's bad on this end. Repeat, repeat."

"Shane, is that you?" T-Dog quickly replied. "We're in some deep shit. We're trapped in the department store. Geeks all over the place. Hundreds of 'em. We're surrounded."

"T-Dog, repeat that last. Repeat." Then the radio crackled and stopped altogether.

Thunder clapped again and rain began to fall. I rushed over to the side.

"Fuck, that's not good," I said, worried for Rick and Glenn. "Shit, the rain's gonnae wash the smell off."

"It's alright," Morales reassured weakly. "It's just a cloudburst. We get 'em all the time. It'll pass real quick."

The red on their lab coats became brown until Rick slammed his axe into a walker's head and screamed something at Glenn and they sprinted down the street, hacking walkers as they went. When they got into the truck and drove off my heart sank and my blood boiled. They were leaving us?

However those fears were soon banished when Glenn's voice came through the CB.

"Those roll-up doors at the front of the store, facing the street. Meet us there and be ready," and a red muscle car blasted through the street, blaring the alarm and drawing the walkers to it. We all picked up a bag and ran down the stairs while T-Dog stayed to uncuff Merle. We passed the store just as walkers had almost smashed through the doors, which by now were covered in cracks. That redneck better not be doing anything stupid, I thought. We held onto the chain and yanked on it once banging resounded from the other side. We tossed our bags into he back of the truck and hopped in ourselves, and just as it took off T-Dog threw himself on, then Morales and I closed the back.

Everyone was sweating buckets, T-Dog clutching his heart. When it eased he answered the unasked question.

"I dropped the damn key."

I dropped my head. Merle Dixon may have been a racist junkie arsehole, but no-one deserved to die being eaten by vicious man-eating monsters whilst whilst chained to a pipe, defenceless. After a second Andrea asked, "Where's Glenn?" and Rick and I shared a simultaneous chuckle.

"He ws in the red car," I told her. "He'll get to the camp soon."

...

"Best not to dwell on it," Morales comforted Rick; we all knew that he blamed himself. "That Merle got left behind. Nobody's gonna be sad he didn't come back... except maybe Daryl."

"Daryl?" Rick and I asked at the same time.

"His brother." Then Glenn came racing past, yelling ecstatically. "Well, at least somebody's having a good day."

Eventually we drove up to a hilltop filled with cars, a few firepits, about 20-25 people and a path to a quarry with a lake. Glenn was already back.

Morales turned and said, "Come meet everybody you two."

...

Chapter 2 is over! Sorry it took so long, but my National 5 exams are coming up and I'm up to my eyeballs in homework and studying.

I have 3 choices for you, though.

**A) THE RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN JACK AND SOPHIA HAPPENS AFTER THE FIRST DAY (AN AWKWARD CONVO, A KISS, THEN THEY'RE DATING).**

**B) IT TAKES UNTIL THE CDC.**

**OR C) THE CONVO AND KISS HAPPEN, BUT JACK TRIES TO PUSH AWAY THE CHANCE OF A RELATIONSHIP, BUT GIVES IN AT THE CDC.**

It's your choice, guys.

**READ AND REVIEW**

**SD OUT**


	3. Tell it to the Frogs Part 1

Here's chappie 3. Enjoy it!

**Chapter 3**

Rick and I got out when Morales called, "Hey, Helicopter Boy, John Wayne, why don't the both of you come say hello." As I turned the corner Rick was staring speechless at a man with dark curly hair and a blu shirt holding a shotgun, a woman a blue plaid shirt and the boy next to her, about my age, wearing a fades bluish-grey t-shirt with a paw print stamped on the front.

His family.

"Dad!" the boy screamed in delight as he and his mother ran towards him. Rick clutched his son and fell to the ground sobbing before standing up and yanking his wife in for a family hug. I smiled at the bittersweet scene before me; I would never hug my mum or dad or brother ever again, but I was happy at this moment nonetheless. Rick had found his family. He grinned at the man with the shotgun, who returned. I saw everyone smile happily at the revelation, except one fat man with a permanent scowl plastered on his face, but I could tell he was always like that.

After the family broke apart, the man with the shotgun came over and gave Rick a one-armed hug, saying, "I thought you was dead, man."

Rick returned the hug with, "I wasn't sure I'd ever find you guys, Shane."

An old man in a fisherman's hat, a beige shirt and a white t-shirt asked, "Shane? As Lori and Carl happen to be too emotionally overloaded to do so, could you introduce us to your friend and our new young friend?" gesturing to Rick and I with a small grin which gave a kind air.

Shane put his hand on Rick's shoulder and announced, "This is my partner, Deputy Sheriff Rick Grimes who is, as you've probably guessed, Lori's husband and Carl's father." His tone was hard to place; it sounded happy, but at the same time... sad? Jealous? Then he turned to me. "As for him, I don't know, but I'm sure he wouldn't mind introducing himself."

I leaned on the truck's hood and said, "Nice to meet youse. I'm Jack McKenzie. If you're wondering about my accent, I'm from a town near Glasgow, in Scotland." Everyone nodded warmly at me, which I smiled at.

However, a girl with shoulder-length blonde hair, freckles, a white top and blue jeans exclaimed worriedly, "What happened to your hand?" pointing at it. The groups smiles turned to frowns of concern and shock. I flushed from the uncomfortable attention.

I didn't even glance at it; I knew more blood was visible than skin. The dull throbbing returned. "Merle happened," I told them simply. They all sighed tiredly. Merle was obviously a constant problem. The old man waved me over.

"Come on up here, son," he said in a genuinely caring manner. "I'll clean it up and point everyone out to you." I hopped into the RV, smiling as warmly as I could.

Once I was in I sat down and the old man began wiping the blood off. "Nice to meet you, Jack. I'm Dale," he said, still smiling. "So, you gonna give me any details?" I recounted the story, from walking into Atlanta, to the tank, to Andrea almost killing Rick, to Merle calling T-Dog a nigger, to me jumping on him an biting his shoulder (Dale grinned at that) before being tossed over the edge of the rooftop and Merle blasting off the piece of roof next to my hand. Dale sighed and tied off the bandage.

"Well, that insult of your's wasn't exactly smart," he scolded me. "But he deserved it." Then Dale led me to the door. "You already know those are Rick, Shane; he's the leader here, Lori and Carl, Andrea and Amy; they're sisters, though Andrea's twelve years older, Morales and his family, Glenn; our supply runner, Jacqui and T-Dog. The ones you haven't met are Jim, our mechanic ( he pointed to a man with dark hair, a groomed beard and blue overalls), Carol (a middle-aged woman with short greyish hair), her daughter Sophia (the girl with blonde hair and freckles) and Carol's abusive husband Ed (the scowling pig with beady eyes)." Dale pointed out the rest, about another ten or so, then a thought occured to me.

"Where's Daryl?" I asked. Dale's face fell slightly.

"Out on a hunt," he informed me. "Should be back tomorrow. He won't be happr about Merle. Say what you want about the Dixon brothers - Merle's a racist drug addict and Daryl's about as anti-social as you can get, but they're loyal to each other. You mess with one, you deal with both." Then he perked up slightly. "Well, if you want, you can bunk here in the RV with me and Jim; there's no more tents."

"Sure, Dale," I thanked him appreciatively. "Thank." He smiled and went back to watch duty.

Walking over to Morales and his family, I greeted, "Hola, Morales! Che pasa?" with a Spanish tint.

"Ah, muy bien, amigo," he returned happily. "This is my wife, my son and my daughter." I shook each of their hands before the brother grabbed the sister's bracelet and she chased him, laughing cheerily.

Next was Rick and his family.

"Hey, Rick," I said as we clapped each other's shoulders. I shook their hands saying, "Lori. Carl. Pleasure." Carl's face lit up childishly.

"Hey, Jack, me, Sophia and the Morales twins are gonna play tag soon, and hide and seek. Wanna join in?" he asked with a wide grin. I chuckled.

"Maybe in about ten, fifteen minutes? I just need to finish saying hi to everybody else, first. Well, except Ed," I finished darkly.

"Sure!" Then I walked over to the girl and her mother. Carol was helping Sophia draw something.

"Hey, there!" I said, wolfish grin in place. "Carol and Sophia, right?"

"Yeah!" smiled Sophia, standing up. "How's the hand?"

I glanced at said hand before replying, "Let me put it this way, Soph - Dale's a miracle worker. I can hardly feel it."

"That's great!" remarked Carol. "That Merle... always has to cause trouble. So... uh... if you don't mind me asking, where's your family?" I looked down sadly. "I don't mean to pry-"

"It's alright," I cut her off. "Need to tell someone. Get it off my chest, y'know? Well, we were going on holiday - vacation to you Americans - and the pilot got chomped. First day all this happened. My mum died in the crash. I put her down." They gasped." My dad, my brother Davie and I joined this group which committed, 'morally questionable acts' to put it mildly. Nine days ago Davie stood up to them. The leader, Hoyt, tied him to a tree and shot him like a dog." Their eyes widened at the horrific revelation. "We ran. A week ago, my dad got chomped. Left me the gun. Davie left me the knife." Carol seized me in a vicious hug, death-grip style.

"Oh, you poor dear," she consoled. I chuckled a little.

"It's okay, Carol. I cried my tears already." I pulled away. "At least I know they're dead. They don't have to go through all this hell." I smiled at them and could've sworn I saw Sophia go slightly red. Then I left hurriedly and walked over to Shane.

"Hi. Shane." He turned around. "You're in charge here, right?" I asked, holding out my hand.

He shook it and answered, "Yep. Make sure everyone's alright, everything's running smoothly. So, you okay?"

"Yeah," I told him, then wished him well and walked over to Andrea and Amy.

"Hi, guys," I called.

"Hey, Jack," they greeted simultaneously. I noticed they were sorting out tackles, bait and other fishing equipment.

"You two like fishing, huh?" They nodded.

Amy said, "Yeah. Our dad loved it. As soon as Andrea went to college it was my ass in that boat. That's how passionate he was. It was annoying at first, but..."

"I know what you mean," I agreed. "My dad took me fishing and camping every school holiday. Toss the tackle and scoff the salmon!" We laughed. "Righto, Jim next. I ain't talking to Ed." I got up and approached Jim, who was tinkering with the RV's engine.

"Jim," I greeted.

"Alright," he replied, not taking his eyes off his work.

"So, hi, and, uh... yeah... I'll leave you alone." He grunted as I went over to Carl, Sophia and the Twins (I don't know their names so I'm just gonna call them 'the Twins') by the log next to the quarry. I sat down next to them and they greeted me warmly.

"What actually happened to your hand?" Morales' son asked. His sister and Sophia both glared at the unsensitive question but I didn't mind. I told them the story.

"Looks like it hurt," Carl commented, gesturing to the bloodied bandage.

"Of course it hurt!" Sophia hissed scoldingly at him. "Now, can we not talk about it?"

"How about that game of tag?" I suggested, grinning wolfishly. Sophia went red again and we all ran from Carl. It was nice to act like a normal kid again, like all this never happened, but of course it wouldn't last long; the apocalypse would hit us again, I wasn't naive enough to think otherwise.

...

A few hours later, I was down the quarry, sitting by the lake on my own, washing my knife and wiping the grime off my Colt Python. The sun was half-hidden by the shade and a small breeze wafted away the sweltering heat. I had just finished sharpening the blade when a finger poked my shoulder. I threw myself onto my back and raised my knife to find Sophia giggling. On anyone else it would have annoyed the life out of me but Sophia made it sound strangely angelic. I started laughing with her and exclaimed, "Don't do that! I could've gutted you!" before sheathing my knife.

"I couldn't help it!" she defended herself playfully. "It was too funny to resist!" She sat down next to me. "What'cha doin'?"

"Oh, just cleaning my knife and gun," I answered, feeling slightly nervous. Why? I had no reason to be.

"Cool. I don't mean to be rude, but how old are you?" she asked. "I mean, you seem the same age as us but look slightly older. It's weird. Sometimes I think you're eleven or twelve and the next I think you're fourteen or fifteen."

"Twelve," I told her. "Nearly thirteen, I think; it's hard to keep track of time in the apocalypse. You?"

"Same."

"Sorry to ask, but what's up with your dad? I-if you don't mind me asking," I added hastily. Sophia's face fell.

"He's... well, he's not very nice. He's always mad at something or another." She sounded sort of... timid?

My eyes narrowed in concern. "Soph? He doesn't... hit you, does he?"

She was silent for a while. "... sometimes," she finally said, sounding scared. My fist clenched. How dare he? Hitting his own daughter? What a piece of shit! "Y'know, that was really brave of you. Standing up to Merle like that."

"Thanks," I smiled, a little less angry, although the feeling still bubbled inside. "But it was just instinct, really." Sophia kept glancing at the water. "Soph? You okay?" In reply she pecked me on the cheek. I felt myself go pink. "Uh..."

"I should... probably go," she hastily muttered before rushing away. I touched the spot, feeling the heat left behind. I stayed there in silence for a few minutes before getting up and heading back to the group.

...

"Disoriented."

Shane, Dale, Andrea and Amy, T-Dog, Glenn, Rick and his family and I were gathered around one fire while Sophia, Carol and Ed were at the nearest and Jim and the other 10 or so were scattered through a few more. The stars were brighter than I'd ever seen them before and the moon seemed to glow in agreement to Rick's statement. The smell of trees and fresh air filled my nostrils as we sat under the night sky.

"I guess that comes closest," he continued while Carl laid with his head against his father's chest and Lori stroked her son's hair absently. "Disoriented. Fear, confusion, all those things, but... disoriented comes closest." Thunder rumbled in the background.

"Words can be meagre things," Dale picked up, placing his mug down on the ground. "Sometimes they fall short."

Rick spoke again. "I felt like I'd been ripped out of my life and put somewhere else. For a while I thought I was trapped in some coma dream, something I might not wake up from, ever." I smiled in sympathy; that was exactly what I'd thought when I found my mum chewing on a fellow passenger's neck. Exactly what I thought when I... I couldn't think about that.

"Mom said you died," Carl said befuddledly.

In return Rick smiled reassuredly at his son and stroked his face, replying, "She had every reason to believe that. Don't you ever doubt it." I saw Lori glare at Shane accusingly for a second before 'dropping in her 20 cents', I believe is the American saying.

"When things started to get really bad, they told me at the hospital, that they were gonna Medevac you and the other patients to Atlanta... and it never happened."

"I'm not surprised after Atlanta fell," Rick said. Andrea and Amy laid their heads on each other. "And from the look of that hospital, it got overrun."

"Yeah, looks don't decieve," Shane interjected, playing with some grass or whatever. "I barely got them out... you know?"

"I can't tell you how grateful I am to you, Shane," Rick thanked his friend seriously. "I can't begin to express it." I noticed Shane gulping slightly and Lori looking down. What was that about?

"There go those words falling short again," Dale chuckled, evidently trying to lighten the mood. "Paltry things." Then a thud sounded from the next fire. We all looked round to see Ed dumping another log into the fire before sitting down at the sight of the sparks and ash flying. The nutter was going to get us killed. Every walker for miles could see the height of that flame!

"Hey, Ed," Shane called. "You want to rethink that log?"

"It's cold, man," Ed excused carelessly. Carol looked down with pursed lips and Sophia merely stared into the fire after giving me an apologetic smile and I smiled back.

"The cold don't change the rules, does it?" Shane asked irritatedly. "Keep our fires low, just embers, so we can't be seen from a distance, right?"

"I said it's cold," the pig retorted. "You should mind your own business for once." Damn it, why did everyone in this godforsaken apocalptic world have to be such arseholes? Granted, I was exaggerating; not _everyone_ was an arsehole, like Rick, and Glenn, Dale... and Sophia. I didn't have time to think on it before Shane got up and stalked over to Ed.

He stood over him menacingly and threatened coldly," Ed... sure you want to have this conversation, man?"

Ed scratched the back of his neck nervously but tried to hide it with his commanding tone to Carol. "Go on, pull that thing out." When she hesitated he insisted, "Go on!"

Shane muttered, "Christ," as Carol pulled out the log and sat it at her husband's feet before Shane put out the fire coming from the log, then walked over to her and Sophia and crouched down, saying, "Hey, Carol, Sophia, how are y'all this evening?"

"Fine," Carol tried to reply dismissively, but failing. "We're just fine."

"Ok." I followed Ed's beady eyes as he silently threatened his wife.

"I'm sorry about the fire," she told Shane, but he brushed it off.

"No, no, no, no apology needed. Y'all have a good night, ok?"

"Ok."

Then Shane got up and came back to us, sarcastically muttering to Ed, "I appreciate the cooperation."

Things were just about to calm down to no tension when Dale brought up another worry for the group.

"Have we given any thought to _Daryl_ Dixon?" he asked us all rhetorically. "He won't be happy to hear his brother was left behind."

"I'll tell him," T-Dog spoke up fatedly. "I dropped the key. It's on me."

"I cuffed him," Rick argued. "That makes it mine." What, was there a prize for _The Killer of Merle Dixon_? I wouldn't be surprised.

"Guys, it's not a competition," Glenn interrupted. "I don't mean to bring race into this, but it might sound better coming from a white guy."

"He's right," I said, catching everyone's attention. "If Rick or Shane were to tell him, he'd be pissed. But if he's anything like his brother, then he'll probably kill T-Dog if he tells him. Just leave it out, T," I advised him. "Watch from a considerable distance. Perhaps then you'll survive."

"I did what I did," T-Dog insisted. "Hell if I'm gonna hide from him."

"We could lie," Amy suggested, but her sister shot her down.

"Or tell the truth. Merle was out of control. Something had to be done or he'd have gotten us killed." Then she turned to Lori. "Your husband did what was necessary. And if Merle got left behind, it was nobody's fault but Merle's."

Dale's face held a disbelieving look. "And that's what we tell Daryl?" he demanded incredulously. "I don't see a rational discussion to be had from that, do you?" Then he glanced around the group. "A word to the wise: we're gonna have our hands full when he gets back from his hunt."

"I was scared and I ran," T-Dog announced. "I'm not ashamed of it."

"We were all scared," Andrea threw back. "We all ran. What's your point?"

"I stopped long enough to chain that door," he informed us. "Staircase is narrow. Maybe half a dozen geeks can squeeze against it at any one time, It's not enought to break through it - not that chain, no-not that padlock. My point: Dixon's alive, and he's still up there, handcuffed on that roof. That's on us." Then he stood up and walked away, leaving us all to digest this new revelation. We all knew who T-Dog meant by us - himself, Rick and I. A sick feeling bubbled inside me. He was still alive.

We had literally left a man to die of starvation or dehydration.

...

I slept on one of the triple seats on the RV, which were much more spacious and wide than one would think. Jim was snoring on the rather thin floor and Dale was keeping watch. Questions and feelings bubbled up inside me.

What would happen when Daryl got back?

He was a complete unknown; all I had to go on was his brother, who happened to be a racist junkie who tried to kill me. Yet from what Dale had told me, he wasn't a bad person, just cold and anti-social, but that was to get along with Merle, who he fought with regularly. Still, Dale's words came back to me. "They're loyal to each other. You mess with one, you deal with both." Would Daryl kill the three of us in revenge for his brother's fate?

What would I do now?

This group seemed to be made up of mainly good people. There were a few bastards - like Merle and Ed, but the others looked trustworthy. There were kids in the group, too. I scolded myself, I was the same age as the others, yet here I was, acting like I was an adult. Still, I'd seen more than they would ever hopefully have to. I was scarred in terrible ways. I'd done things most people before couldn't have imagined doing. I was as much an adult as Rick or Shane, no matter how much I might enjoy playing about and messing around. I had been changed by this world, and there was no turning back; this world was cruel and evil, and I had been adjusted to suit. My mind was already made on this matter: I was staying here, my promise would still be kept, I just had to find her.

Sophia.

Now came my most worrying problem of all. What was it I felt when I was near her? Why did I feel like something was fluttering around in my stomch whenever she smiled at me? Why did my heart jump a beat when she blushed? Why did I feel warm when I was near heras though she gave off an extra heat, like a furnace? The thought of me possibly liking her romantically crossed my mind for a second before I brushed it away. If I fancied her, I would know, right? Besides, this was no time for emotional entanglement. And in any case, I had already sworn to myself never to get too attached to anyone. Get that close to someone, and you'll only feel it worse when they die. I had gone through too much, lost too much. I wasn't going through that again. The closest I could afford to get to someone was the friendship I had with Rick, Glenn and Dale, if you could call it that. Still, I couldn't get thoughts of her out of my mind. The way her blonde hair glinted gold in the sunlight as it framed her oval face. The scent similar to that of an old-world perfume, not expensive, but a nice scent, sometimes like that of trees and the wild, other times indistinguishable, unknowable yet still pleasant and carefree. My sense of reality and my feelings inside battled for supremacy, one which would not be resolved tonight.

Could I possibly be attracted to Sophia Peletier?

...

**And there's chapter 3 done. **

**I hope I've made the relationship between Jack and the other characters, as well as his denial of his attraction to Sophia believable enough for you. I'm trying to fit as many chapters as possible into Season 1 as it's only six episodes long. If I don't fit that many chapters into it, people won't read it, and the future of Jack's story will be bleak at best.**

**What promise was Jack talking about? It's going to play a big role in Season 2 and open up the path for a show of Jack's humanity and also pave the way for his beginning into a cold-blooded survivor at all costs. His relationships will be strained and he will be more vocal in the overall group decisions. **

**SPOILERSSPOILERSSPOILERS**

**He will come across the Governor before Michonne and Andrea, resulting in said evil dictator hating him instead of Michonne. **

**Also, Lee and Clem will play a big part in his future, causing a great revelation in Jack's ability to face down walkers, as well as causing him to be more human yet more of a cold-blooded survivor at the same time due to Clementine.**

**SPOILERS OVER SPOILERS OVER SPOILERS OVER**

**Hope you guys enjoyed the chapter!**

**Read and review! It helps a lot.**

**Love you guys.**

**SD OUT**


	4. Tell it to the Frogs Part 2

Here's chappie 4. Not as long as the others but hope you enjoy it all the same.

**Chapter** 4

I remember it. Clear as day.

I would never forget it. I knew that. I didn't deserve it.

It would haunt me for the rest of my days.

...

The sound of random babbling by drunks in the background.

The stink of urine and shit tearing apart my nostrils while beer and smoke served to intensify it and suppress it at the same time.

The odd couple snogging, practically shagging in front of me.

My entire family out like a light, while I had no hope of doing so. Occasional transient insomnia is a bitch.

Perverts slapping women's arses as they pass by, then by smacked across the face. I chuckle.

The captain, steward, whoever barking through the speakers was unintelligible, impossible to distinguish from the ruckus and mess of the rest of the plane.

Then it came.

A snarling growl from the toilets.

...

No. No. No. No. No NO!

Why did it have to be this one again? Why?

Why couldn't I just forget? Why?

Why wouldn't it just let me sleep, for just one night? Why?

I knew why.

Because I didn't deserve it. That's why.

Because I failed. That's why.

Because I could have done more. That's why.

And so I replay the beginning of the apocalypse in my dreams every night.

And so I replay the beginning of hell on earth every night.

And so I replay the greatest failure of my life every night.

With the searching.

With the wondering.

With the horror.

The horror of seeing the first of my family torn to pieces.

The horror of seeing the dead coming back to life.

The horror of putting them down for the first time.

...

I saw his face.

Blood-wrecked, gray, already worn and sickly.

How could he have blood on his face already?

Makeup?

Idiot was probably trying to look like a zombie for his mates.

Pack of drunken animals.

But he didn't go back to his seat.

No.

He hobbled into the cockpit, leaving the door open behind him.

And so I saw it all.

The pilot asking him to return to his seat, not taking his eyes off the controls.

The groaning, the growling, the glugging.

The pilot sighing and turning, to be met by a full set of teeth in his neck, his jugular.

The screams echoed throughout the plane as blood splattered and the body of the only man capable of flying this hunk of tin and steel fell to the ground lifelessly.

Dead. He was dead.

That psychopathic monster had just killed him.

Just killed _us_

No way out.

No way to safety.

No way to survive.

None of us would live this day.

The psycho growled at the horrified passengers as we all struggled to take in the monstrosity of what had just happened.

Then a fat woman in her thirties (I mean really fat, like a big bully, you know, big belly, fat face, thick thighs, tiny arse, fucking 'Hungry Bum' syndrome, that type) screamed bloody murder and it all kicked off.

Everyone snapped.

I shook my dad vigourously and he jerked awake, eyes wide at what he just had to process. We woke up the rest of our family as the cannibal chewed into the fat woman's stomach and everyone ran around, yelling and screaming like headless chickens, to nowhere in particular. Unclipping our seatbelts, we got up and backed away from the monster, wide-eyed and sweating from the nerves slapping at my brain like waves of the ocean, almost like a tsunami drowning my consciousness, but I held on, instead gripping a nearby box tightly, before seeing it was an emergency box, with an axe in it.

An axe.

A wild thought crossed my mind, a wild, crazy thought.

If I followed through with it I would certainly go to jail, or something of the like. But it was justified. He would kill us all, if we couldn't get to the cockpit. Maybe I would be let off?

It didn't matter.

I smashed my fist into the weak glass, recoiling from the flying glass, and pulled out the axe, wielding it readily until my dad took it off me and walked forward before slamming the axe into the neck of the vicious creature, but something truly terrifying happened.

It just kept coming.

My dad kept yanking the axe out and into it's torso.

It just kept coming.

He chopped off the arms and slammed the axe back into it's neck.

It just kept coming.

What would it take to kill this thing?

I thought I wasn't far off with the 'zombie' idea from earlier, only he wasn't wearing makeup.

He really _was_ a zombie.

This was a fucking **_zombie_** **_apocalypse!_**

The head.

"The head!" I yelled to my dad, who thankfully took my advice and slashed into the brain of the monster, which fell to the ground immediately. Then we had a whole new problem.

The plane was falling to the ground at 100 mph with no-one to pilot her.

We rushed into the cockpit and pulled up the directional stick, but to no avail. It was too late.

It was going to crash regardless of out efforts.

"Get back!" my dad screamed and we all scrambled back up the plane before a resounding crash rang and I lost all consciousness.

...

Do you know the type of person who never cared what you were getting up to, didn't care if you did something stupid or got in trouble, so long as you were okay? My mum was one of those people. My marks at school didn't matter, she couldn't care less if I got into fights. All that mattered was that her little boy was alright. I loved her for that. My dad was the hardarse, the pressurer, the mentor. My mum was the carer, the lover. The perfect combination.

Still, I'll never experience that again. I'll never feel her hugs or hear her calming voice. Never see her gleaming green eyes sparkle in amusement or worry, or her silky brown hair flow around when my dad came home.

Because I didn't deserve it.

She was dead.

And I was the one who killed her.

...

Groaning.

Snarling.

The stench of the freshly dead.

Oil running around, coating our jackets.

Screams of death.

Chewing of teeth on flesh.

Living flesh.

My eyes opened to the sight of fire, dead bodies, the plane torn in half, one crushed. The sight of some people chomping into other people's necks, stomachs, arms, legs, face even.

My ears awoke to screaming, snarling, groaning, crackling of fire. The sound of liquid running along the ground and blood splattering from it's owner onto the surroundings.

My nose filled with the stink of oil, already decomposing flesh and guts, burning wood and canvas. The stink of dirt, blood and waste.

I looked up to the most horrible sight I'd seen yet in this new world.

My mum was biting into another passenger's face, chewing off his nose, his ears.

Then she turned to me.

My heartbeat raced but I couldn't move.

I was going to accept my death, here at the death of the old world, before the new was brought in, before I saw it.

The axe.

Then I saw them.

The remainder of my family.

A surge of meaning blasted through me. My resolve hardened.

I grabbed the axe and swung upwards just as she fell on me, jaws wide, ready to receive my flesh for food.

She never came close.

Then my family woke up, one by one.

The dead were noticing us now, stumbling towards us, coming to claim their next meal.

My dad grabbed us and pulled us back, into the forest, away from this nightmare.

Into the next.

...

**And there goes Jack's first experience with a walker: his own mother.**

**I know it's unrealistic for him to kill his mother, even as a walker, but the way he saw it, he was ending her misery. A mercy kill.**

**I don't know what I would do in that situation. What would you do?**

**Reply to Rebel29: Yep, I have plans for all seasons of the TV show and for the first season of the game, but it's hard to write it down properly. Also, [SPOILER] Jack will suffer an injury in season 2 that Carl suffers in the comics. Do with that what you will. Clem will help to keep Jack more human by giving him hope in the remainder of the human race, as she does to everyone, and the losses gained by the Motor Inn Survivors will harden him at the same time, as will a certain loss in season 2 of the TV show, which isn't what you think.**

** Thanks for the review and glad you enjoy the story!**

**Keep the reviews coming! They give inspiration for me to keep writing!**

**Love you guys.**

**SD OUT**


	5. Tell it to the Frogs Part 3

**Hi guys!**

**Internet's been down so I've not had time to update. Also I won't be able to update for a while as my exams are starting. Sorry.**

**I've noticed that the original names for Jack's old group leader and his brother are different from the new ones. That was completely unintentional, by the way. The name's I'm using from now on are Davie and Hoyt. Who can guess the game I'm referencing here with Hoyt?**

**Anyways, let's get on with the next chappie!**

**Chapter 5 **

I jerked awake, flinching and gasping. That was the tenth time I'd had that nightmare; I was counting, although it was the first time since my dad died. After a few seconds of adjusting to my surroundings (this was the first remotely comfortable 'bed' I'd had in this hell) I took in the sound of birds chirping, people talking and drills and other tools whirring and wheering. I threw a quick glance around the RV and ensured that no-one was in the vehicle before slipping on the No Fear t-shirt and Adidas trackie bottoms which were conveniently laid down, folded on the opposite triple seat. Once I had put on my normal black canvas trainers I took a big stretch and stepped out the RV door.

Sophia, Carl, Louis and Eliza (I don't know if that's really their names, please correct me if I'm wrong) were messing around and playing near the forest trees. Carol was ironing Rick's cop uniform, freshly washed, as she gave me a heartwarming smile, which I returned. Andrea was on watch, standing on top of the RV with binoculars raised to her eyes. Lori was hanging up the now-dry washing. Dale, Jim and a few others were stripping apart Glenn new car, as said Korean stared in horror. Morales and his wife were talking to a pair of group members. I couldn't see Rick or Ed. Probably sleeping, I thought. Rick deserved it after yesterday. Ed was just a lazy bastard. Oop, there Rick was, slipping under the tent flap in a white t-shirt and jeans as he thanked Carol and walked over to Glenn, which I did as well. Shane must have been in the black jeep coming down from the horizon.

"Look at 'em," Glenn muttered to us, not taking his eyes off the tragedy that lay before him. "Vultures. Yeah, go on, strip it clean!" he called to the criminals.

Dale walked up to him with a petrol can in hand, and said, "Generators need all the fuel they can get." He clapped Glenn on the shoulder. "Got no power without it. Sorry, Glenn," he apologised before going on his way.

"Thought I'd get to drive it at least a few more days," Glenn complained defeatedly. I smiled half-heartedly.

"It's a damn nice car, too," I commented, before clapping him on the back and jogging over to the other 'kids' as Carl shouted for me to join them, hearing Rick's attempt to comfort the poor supply runner.

"Hey, guys," I said, sounding cheery for the first time in over a month.

"Hi, Jack," Carl and Louis chorused. I grinned and saw Sophia turn slightly pink. "Wanna continue that game of tag from yesterday?"

"Sure," I answered, eager to escape the nightmare of daily apocalyptic life. I enjoyed their company; they were all so happy and carefree. Lucky gits, I thought to myself. They had obviously seen bad things: the dead chewing hungrily on the juicy flesh of the living, losing family and friends, but they hadn't seen the terrible truth, the monsters this world turned people into. Over the past month I had developed a motto.

Fight the dead. Fear the living.

Walkers were easy to anticipate, drawn by sound, smell, sometimes sight, if you got too close. So long as you didn't get trapped or draw a herd, and kept alert, you were safe enough.

People, on the other hand, were totally unpredictable. You never knew if they were friend or foe, helpful or hindering your chances of survival. Most showed you what they were up front, with no laws to restrict them. Some, however, hid it deep inside, tricking you into trusting them before turning you over and trying to rob you, or worse. It was that some that meant you couldn't trust anyone at first sight.

I was woken out of my stupor by the "You're it!" from Louis to Eliza, who chased Sophia, Carl and I across the camp, giggling as she went. Carl turned left, down towards the other trees, along with Louis. Sophia nearly went that way too, but I grabbed her arm and pointed out Eliza's eyes following her brother, before pulling her with me to the RV, hiding under the window.

Our shoulders were touching, and I felt a strange warmth emanating from her. I noticed her eyes gleaming in amusement and her golden blonde hair. I felt a fluttering in my stomach and my sight lowered to her shaped pink lips. I wanted to lean in. No! I thought inwardly. Bad thoughts, Jack, bad thoughts. I snapped my head back up to the window when Sophia jumped down.

Eliza was coming our way, abandoning the search for her brother and friend. I caught her seeing me and yanked Sophia out of the RV with me, dodging the Hispanic girl's reaching arm. I let go of Sophia's hand (instantly missing the feel) and sprinted down to the forest, towards Carl and Louis. The four of us scurried slightly in only to be confronted with the sight of a walker gnawing on a deer's neck. Screams echoed loudly and I was amazed the walker didn't notice us. It must've been a yummy meal, and he must've been starving.

"Mom!"

"Dad!"

"Mom!"

My hand naturally flew to my waist - no holster. Damn it! Why didn't I put the damn thing on? Complacency gets you killed. Trying to shush the others - and failing - I heard Lori shouting for Carl and the other adults running to the scene.

Carl, Sophia and the twins ran to their parents while I kept an eye on the geek. Carol pulled me back with one hand as Shane, Rick, Morales, Glenn and Jim continously whacked the dead guy hard enough for the echoes to sound around the forest. I rolled my eyes and muttered, "Brain, guys," before Dale chopped off the walker's head, halting it's feast.

"It's the first one we've had up here," he said surprisedly. "They never come this far up the mountain."

"Well, they're running out of food in the city, that's what," Jim asserted. Damn. We had to move within the next couple of days. Otherwise we would be overrun. The thought of those things biting into Carl or Sophia... I shuddered, then mentally whacked myself. You idiot! You're already getting attached! Stop now! A branch snapped in the woods and all weapons raised to a figure with a crossbow. A man with short brown hair and a greyish-brown vest came out. Damn, I thought. A crossbow in the apocalypse? Badass. Then he caught sight of the dead animal and the walker. Everyone lowered their weapons.

"Oh, Jesus," he muttered in response to the sight, a Southern accent heavy in his words. "Son of a bitch... that's my deer!" Daryl, I assumed. He walked past the deer and over to the walker. "Look at it, all gnawed on by this filthy-" kick to the geek-"disease-bearing-" another kick-"motherless-" yet another kick- "poxy bastard!" One last kick.

"Calm down, son," Dale reasoned. "That's not helping." The man walked up to him and got in his face.

"What d'you know about it, old man?" he challenged. "Why don't you take that stupid hat and go back to On Golden Pond?" Then he began pulling arrows out of the deer's corpse. "I've been tracking this deer for miles. Was gonna drag it back to camp, cook us up some venison." He gestured to the neck. "Do you think we can cut around this chewed-up part right here?"

"I would not risk that," Shane told him.

"That's a damn shame." Then the guy perked up. "Well, I got some squirrel, 'bout a dozen or so," he commented, hefting the string of squirrels back up his shoulder. "That'll have to do." As he walked away, the walker's head chomped and gnashed at thin air, sending Amy and Andrea back up to the camp. He raised his crossbow. "C'mon, people, what the hell?" he asked, shooting the geek's brain and picking it back out. "S'gotta be the brain. Don't y'all know nothing?" That was uncalled for, I thought as we followed him back to camp.

"Merle!" the guy yelled as we got to the main area. Ah, so it _was_ Daryl. "Merle! Get yer ugly ass out here! I got us some squirrel! Let's stew 'em up!" He laid his crossbow down on a barrel and continued on up to the RV, not getting five paces before Shane called him, putting the shotgun in the jeep.

"Daryl, just slow up a bit," he said. "I need to talk to you." He sounded nervous. Then again, so am I, I mused as I passed Daryl and sat on the RV floor, feet on the dirt. Daryl stopped.

"About what?" Daryl asked, confused.

"About Merle," Shane replied, right next to Daryl now. "There was a, uh... problem in Atlanta." Daryl looked down, preparing for (what he thought) was the worst.

"He dead?" he inquired, already assuming so. Nope, I thought, but you'll be pissed at the news.

"We're not sure," Shane answered carefully.

"He either is or he ain't!" Daryl insisted forcefully, raising his voice.

Rick walked up to him, saying, "No easy way to say this, so I'll just say it."

"Who are you?"

"Rick Grimes."

"Rick Grimes," Daryl said, voice already accusing, taunting almost. "You got something you wanna tell me?"

"Your brother was a danger to us all," Rick replied. "So I handcuffed him to a roof, hooked to a piece of metal. He's still there." Out of the corner of my eye I saw T-Dog coming up with a pack of logs in his arms. Daryl turned away and wiped his eyes, preventing any threat of tears from becoming a reality.

"Hold on, lemme process this," he started, voice rising again, higher than before. "You're saying you handcuffed my brother to a roof, and you _LEFT HIM THERE_?" He was yelling now, severely pissed off. I knew what Dale meant by, "You mess with one, you deal both."

"Yeah," Rick muttered softly, but loud enough for everyone to hear.

Daryl screwed his face up, then tossed the squirrels at Rick and lunged for him but was tackled by Shane. Then Daryl drew his hunting knife and got up, ignoring Shane's warning of, "Watch the knife!" He slashed at Rick twice before the deputy sheriff grabbed the handle, yanking it out of his hand as Shane shoved one arm around his neck and forced him to the ground with the other.

"You best let me go!"

"Nah, I think it's better if I don't."

"Choke-holding's illegal!"

"Yeah, you can file a complaint. Come on, man, we'll keep this up all day." Rick crouched down to Daryl, looking the hunter straight in the eye.

"I'd like to have a calm discussion on this topic," he requested. "Do you think we can manage that?" No answer. "Do you think we can manage that?" Daryl kept panting. Rick gave Shane a nod and his partner let go, standing up. "What I did was not on a whim," he informed Daryl. "Your brother does not work and play well with others."

"It's not Rick's fault," came the voice of T-Dog. "I had the key. I dropped it."

"You couldn't pick it up?" Daryl retorted, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Well, I dropped it in a drain." Daryl face screwed up in emotional pain and fell down.

He stood up and walked past T-Dog, telling him, "If that's supposed to make me feel better, it don't."

"Maybe this will," T-Dog countered. "Look, I chained the door to the roof, so the geeks couldn't get at him, with a padlock."

"It's gotta count for something," Rick insisted.

Daryl wiped his eyes again and his voice sounded strangled as he shouted, "Hell with all y'all! Just tell me where he is, so's I can go get him."

"He'll show you."

All eyes went to Lori, who was staring her husband in the eye as she stood next to me, clearly not happy at all with the idea. "Isn't that right?"

Rick shuffled nervously for a second before announcing, "I'm going back." Lori climbed past me into the RV and Rick headed into his tent. Everyone broke up to do their own thing.

...

I shoved my Python and knife in their respective holsters, still pissed at myself for being so foolish as to leave them behind in the first place. How could I have been so careless? Yes, this place looked safe enought, but in actual fact, that only made it all the more dangerous. And I left my protection in the RV while running into the forest? Stupid, stupid, stupid. I heard a sound behind me and turned to see Daryl climbing into the RV, looking astounded at the sight of a twelve year old kitted out with a survival knife and a revolver, almost as much as Rick had when we were in that tank.

"Damn, kid," he commented. "That's some nice gear. Sorry to have to tell ya you're not coming with us."

"Wasn't coming anyway," I replied, looking the hunter right in the eye. "No offence, but Merle is an arsehole. Last I saw him, he tossed me over the roof of a thirty-story building and tried to take over the entire group." Daryl snorted.

"Asshole," he repeated, seemingly unfazed by his brother's psychopathic actions. "His stash always drove him crazy. Crazier," he corrected himself. "Still, I have to agree with ya; he is an asshole, but he's my asshole. Blood's blood, know what I mean?"

"Yeah," I replied. "Your family goes above everything. You go save his junkie arse and drag it back here, so I can bite his other shoulder." Daryl half-chuckled at that.

"Where ya from?"

"Scotland," I told him shortly. I was really getting tired of people asking me that question. Daryl nodded and left, to be replaced by Carl. "Hey, man," I greeted him. He looked sad. "What's up?"

"I don't want my dad to go," he told me sadly, looking down. "He just got back, and he's heading into Atlanta again? I'm just scared that he..." he trailed off, then looked me in the eye. "Tell me the truth: what is it really like down there?"

I sighed. "I'm not gonna lie, Carl, it's bad, the city's overrun with geeks." The boy looked down. "But, hey, have some faith in Rick. Your old man, he's one tough son of a bitch." Carl raised his eyebrows at my language. "He's a survivor. He didn't let a herd stop him getting back to you before, why would he let it now?" Carl seemed to perk up at my words.

"You're right," he said, sounding slightly shameful. "But I can't help worrying, y'know?"

"Hey," I started seriously. "If you weren't worried, I'd kick your backside 'til you were. He's your familly, hold on to him. Like I told Daryl, your family goes above everything. Now, chin up," I ordered him. "Go out there, and hug him. Wish him luck, and do _not_, under_ any circumstances_, let him say goodbye. Do you hear me? If he says goodbye, you won't be able to stop thinking about it."

"Got it!" Carl said with a smile. "Thanks, Jack."

"Nae bother." I watched as he exited the RV, and followed, leaning on the side of the doorway as he followed my instructions to the letter. When their conversation was over, Rick gave me a thankful smile and walked to Shane, talking to him. Rick walked up the path and Shane chased him.

"Well, look, I... I don't, okay, Rick?" he said to his best friend. "So, could you just... could you throw me a bone here, man? Could you just tell me why you'd risk your life for a douchebag like Merle Dixon?"

"Choose your words more carefully," Daryl warned Shane, as everyone's attentions turned to the arguing partners.

"No, I did. Douchbag's what I meant." Then he turned back to Rick again. "Merle Dixon wouldn't give you a glass of water if you were dying of thirst."

"What he would or wouldn't do doesn't interest me," Rick argued. "I can't let a man die of thirst, me. Thirst and exposure. We left him like an animal caught in a trap. That's no way for anything to die, let alone a human being." Then he walked away.

"So, you and Daryl?" Lori demanded. "That's your big plan?" Rick turned to Glenn.

"Oh, come on!" the Korean complained. I chortled, despite myself. I had to agree, it was clear Glenn did a lot for the group already.

"You know the way," Rick reasoned. "You've been there before - in and out, no problem. You said so, yourself. It's not fair of me to ask, I know that, but I'd feel a lot better with you along." He gestured to his wife. "I know she would too."

"That's great," Shane commented bitterly. "So now you're gonna risk three men, huh?"

"Four," T-Dog interjected his volunteer.

Daryl huffed as he wiped his arrows. "My day just gets better and better, don't it?"

"You see anyone else here stepping up to save your brother's cracker ass?"

"Why you?"

"You wouldn't even begin to understand. You don't speak my language."

Rick announced, "That's four."

"It's not just four," Shane insisted. "You're putting all of us at risk - just know that Rick. Come on, you saw that walker - it was here. It was in camp!" he continued. "They come back, we need every able body we've got. We need 'em here. We need 'em to protect camp." Then Rick delivered a powerful counter.

"Seens to me what you really need most here are more guns."

"Right... the guns," Glenn picked up.

"Wait, what guns?" Shane asked.

"Six shotguns, two high-powered rifles, over a dozen handguns," Rick informed us. "I cleaned out the station cage before I left. I dropped the bag in Atlanta when me and Jack got swarmed. It's sitting there on the street, waiting to be picked up."

"Ammo?"

"700 rounds, assorted."

"You went through hell to find us," Lori spoke up. "You just got here and you're gonna turn around and leave?" Damn it, woman, just shut up. Your husband's trying to help protect this group, so let him do it! Stop acting like a spoiled schoolgirl! He _needs_ to do this. "To hell with the guns. Shane is right. Merle Dixon? He's not worth one of your lives, even with guns thrown in!" Rick walked over to her and she stood up, eyes wide and indignant. "Tell me. Make me understand."

"I owe a debt to a man I met an-and his little boy."Lori was about to point out his own little boy but Rick cut her off. "Lori, if they hadn't taken me in, I'd have died. It's because of them that I made it back to you at all. They said they'd follow me to Atlanta. They'll walk into the same trap I did if I don't warn 'em."

Lori looked down and sounded slightly guilty when she asked, "What's stopping you?"

"The walkie-talkie, the one in the bag I dropped. He's got the other one. Our plan was to connect when they got closer."

"Is it our walkies?" asked Shane, who was sitting on the front bumper of the jeep.

"Yeah."

"So use the CB," suggested Andrea. "What's wrong with that?"

"CB's fine," Shane told her. "It's the walkies that suck to crap - date back to the 70s, don't match any other bandwidth, not even the scanners in our cars."

"I need that bag," Rick begged. Lori just looked down (I noticed she did that a lot around Rick, like she was ashamed of something) and he turned to Carl, saying,"Okay?" His son nodded. "Alright." Then he patted Carl's head an stood up.

...

"I want to come with you," I told Rick near the van. He raised an eyebrow. "I don't want to go anywhere _near_ Dixon, but we need those guns, and-"

"No."

I stepped back, surprised by the firmness of the man's statement.

"What?" I asked him, confused. "Why the hell not?"

"Because," he started. "I highly doubt you're partin' with that gun, and we can't let any more weapons get out of camp than necessary. And besides, you're handy with that knife. If any walkers roll through, we need someone with the skills and equipment. That includes you."

I knew he was trying to butter me up to get me to agree but nonetheless I acquiesced with a demure nod and walked off, turning back when he called me.

"Hey, Jack! Do me a favour? Look after Carl for me, will you? I know you two are friends and, well, like I said, you've got skills and equipment."

"Sure thing, Sheriff, but admit it: you only want to go back, for that damn hat." We both chuckled and I walked to my log with a view of the quarry as Rick and T-Dog went to Dale, their conversation ending with a pair of bolt cutters being placed in Rick's hands with a large smile on Dale's face.

Then Daryl honked the horn on the van and walked up the back of the vehicle, shouting, "Come on, let's go!"

As T-Dog got in the back of the van, Shane set a bag on the step-up, talking to Rick. After a while, Rick called me over and offered me two rounds for my Python, keeping two for himself. Once I took them and nodded my thanks, he got in the passenger seat and Shane lifted his bag off while T-Dog closed the shutter and they drove off.

...

**Okay, there's the next chapter down!**

**I know Daryl's a little OOC in the convo with Jack, but I find it easier to write him from Seasons 2 and onwards.**

**I'll say it again: I've noticed that the original names for Jack's old group leader and his brother are different from the new ones. That was completely unintentional, by the way. The name's I'm using from now on are Davie and Hoyt. Who can guess the game I'm referencing here with Hoyt?**

**Hope you enjoyed the chapter and I'll see you soon!**

**SD OUT**


	6. Tell it to the Frogs Part 4

**Hi, guys!**

**This is the absolute last time I will be updating either this or 'Use Me' until the end of my exams. I know I've said it before but this is it.**

**Except for the Season 1 profile for Jack.**

**Still, hope you enjoy!**

**Chapter 6**

I sat on my log, contemplating the true horrors of the New World. I never really had the opportunity before; I was always keeping myself busy with something or other, cooking, hunting, hiking, killing walkers etc. Now, however, I didn't have the luxury. Food was provided by the 'adults', Daryl was our resident hunter, and there weren't any walkers for miles around.

I wasn't really thinking about the whole 'dead coming back to life' thing. I'd come to terms with that a while ago. Some scientist had messed up whatever stupid experiment and now people were eating other people, and whatever was left of their meal came back as one of them. Simple, really, when you think about it.

No, what I was focused on, what I couldn't understand, was the real monsters of the earth: the living. People who should be helping each other; feeding, healing, saving were instead harming each other; robbing, killing, condemning. I'd never been religious, but I wondered for a second if this was it, the prophesised End of the World, but quickly dismissed the thought. If this was the supposed Second Coming where was He? Why hadn't He shown himself? I remembered the old group. Hoyt: the so-called 'leader', Shinda: the medic, Alan: the cold fence guard, Sam: the cook and Job and MIckey: the runner brothers. God, they seemed like nice people at first; they took us in when they couldn've left us. Later they showed their true viciousness.

We came across a family: a father in his late 40s, a mother of the same age and two young girls. It was the first run we were allowed to go on; me, Dad and Davie. My sisters stayed at camp. My two beautiful sisters. Shit. How could I have left them? I never should have insisted that I went that day. Anyways, Hoyt came along, to 'evaluate who should be given what position'. Yeah right. Conniving prick. He sure had us fooled. He had them all knocked out and tied up. We stayed quiet; this was likely for safety. Then he robbed them; stole all their supplies. We got agitated at that; there was no need. Then they did the worst thing.

Job and Mickey raped the daughters whilst Hoyt executed the wife before the rape and the father after, then the daughters. No matter how much they begged, no matter how much they pleaded, none of our 'saviours' showed them any mercy. Just pop, pop, pop-pop. Just like that. No remorse. The men we owed our lives to raped and murdered an entire family without a care in the world.

Murder. It was such an ugly word. It left a bitter taste in my mouth, unwanted and unbidden. No wonder the hitmen of the Old World hid behind words like 'hit' and 'assassination'. Murder exposed the act for what it truly was, an evil, vile thing.

It was at that where my brother drew the line. Davie walked forward and demanded an explanation, calling the group out for what they were. Hoyt didn't even hesitate.

The group leader walked forward and put two rounds into my brother's chest.

Me and my dad just watched as Davie's body fell to the ground. Once Hoyt started laughing my dad snatched my arm and pulled me away, back to camp. When we got in I lifted up 9-year-old Natalie and was heading for Riley when bullets tore through our path and Alan grabbed my baby sister, running into the forest while Hoyt came out, asking if we were 'fucking deaf?' and to 'run, Forrest, run!'. With no way to her, we abandoned Riley and fled into the streets, soon being seperated from Natalie by a herd.

Before he died, my dad made me swear to find them both, whatever it took. I swore without hesitation. I never even needed it. I was always going to search, to the ends of the earth if need be. The old camp wasn't too far from Atlanta, so I was going to go on the next supply run to get Riley, then focus on finding Natalie. Hell, Riley was going to _be_ the supply run. I didn't care what Shane said; if they could go get Merle fucking Dixon, they could let me save my baby sister from those... monsters. There was no other word for them. I wasn't about to let Riley be raised by them, to be like them. I was going for her the day after they got back, and if Shane said no, he could kiss my arse.

Oh, look. Speak of the devil.

"And he shall appear," Shane finished with a grin. Did I say that out loud?

"Yep," answered Carl, who stood by his side. "We're going down the quarry, catching frogs. Wanna come?"

"Ummm..." I considered for a moment. "I'll come down, but I'm just really gonna do ma own thing, guys." Carl looked a little disappointed. I guess I was the first mature boy his age around that he'd met in all this; Louis couldn't keep his hands off his sister's things (sorry that sounds wrong) and the others were both girls. I felt bad for the guy, but hey, he asked.

...

I was sat on a rock nearby the lake, halfway between Shane and Carl, who seemed to be having a whale of a time and Andrea, Amy, Jacqui and Carol, who were doing the washing and the laundry. Carol kept taking nervous glances at Ed, their apparent 'overseer'. Once again I felt my fists clench at the very existence of the 'man'. More of a pig than a man, with a little bit of mouse thrown in too. Trying to ignore it, I rubbed away the dirt from a metal object sticking out of the ground.

After a minute I pulled out a steel pistol, a Beretta, the exact same make as the one Rick took off the soldier-walker in the Atlanta tank. Once I brushed the remainder of the dirt I checked the clip. It was full: 15 rounds. Why would someone throw away a perfectly good gun? I made a point to check how it handled alright when I was on my way to the old camp.

Then things got fucked up.

Ed had stomped over to the women after they all had a laugh, including Carol. Good, I thought. She needs a little more cheer in her life. Of course Piggy had to start treating them all like shit and taunting them. I could see things were about to get way out of hand when Andrea walked forward and stopped Piggy from dragging Carol away for another beating. I stalked over to them and saw Lori send Carl up to the camp, scolding Shane for something or other, I didn't really care.

"I don't think she need to go anywhere with you, Ed," Andrea stated matter-of-factly. Piggy glared back at her, evidently not happy with being told what to do.

"It's none of your business." Then he turned to his wife. "Come on now, you heard me."

"Carol-"

"Andrea, please," the woman protested weakly. "It doesn't matter." Piggy then tried threatening Andrea.

"Hey, don't think I won't knock you on your ass, just 'cos you're some college-educated cooze, alright." He turned back to Carol. "Now, you come on now, or you gonna regret it later." Motherfucker. My blood boiled and I clenched my fists again.

"So she can show with fresh bruises later, Ed?" Jacqui demanded. Piggy looked a little nervous at the numbers but hid it with his beady-eyed glare. "Yeah, we've seen them!"

"Stay out of this," he snarled with a short, humourless laugh. "Now, come on! You know what, this ain't none of y'all's business! You don't wanna keep prodding the bull here. Okay, now, I am _done_ talking. Come on." Then Piggy grabbed Carol's arm. All the others protested and tried pulling her away but Ed shouted, "You don't tell me what! I tell you what!" and slapped his wife hard.

I rushed forward and aimed my Python right at Piggy's head. The women all caught sight of me and jumped back gasping at the emotionless look on my face, contrasting with the murderous look I could feel burning in my eyes. "Step back, Ed. You _don't_ want this to get any worse. So go back up to camp, or you're going to wish you hadn't started this crap," I growled quietly. I knew a quiet voice made more of an impression in a bad time. Ed took note of this and stepped back a few steps, albeit with that permanent ugly glare now fixed on me. Good, I had him scared. "Okay, now go back to the truck," I ordered. He did so. "Sit." He sat. "Good boy," I finished like a man praising his dog, rather pleased with myself.

I holstered my Python and told Carol, "I know it's none of my business, but don't let him treat you like that. He's a cowardly piece of dung, a bully. He does that again, tell Rick or Shane, or me, even, I don't care. This has to stop." Then I noticed a trickle of blood leaking from her mouth. "You'll want tae get that cleaned up." I nodded my goodbye and started walking back to camp when I heard Amy's voice screaming to look out.

I turned and felt a glass bottle smash painfully against my forehead. Falling to the ground, I saw Ed standing, over me, a victorious grin on his ugly face. I could feel the bits of broken glass stuck in my cheek, drawing blood. Ed raised his foot and stomped it into my face again and again, spreading the glass further and further up my head, nearing my brain. Pain exploded throughout my skull, burning my skin and tearing apart my nerves and I blacked out.

And that was the first time I died.

...

**MWAHAHAHAHA!**

**Don't worry, I'm not gonna kill off Jack. Wouldn't be much of a story if I did, now would it?**

**As nobody guessed (fans of Percy Jackson snicker), the game I'm referencing with the use of Hoyt's name and the quote "Run, Forrest, run!" is Far Cry 3, Hoyt being the big daddy, the runner of the largest slave-trading ring in the South Pacific as well as the final boss of the game, and the quote from the beginning, when Vaas shoots Grant in the neck and tells Jason to run.**

**Sorry, but the next chappie isn't coming till after my exams.**

**Signing off till then,**

**SD OUT**


	7. Season One Profile for Jack

**I'll be making profiles for Jack at some point during every season of the TV show and Telltale game.**

**They'll highlight Jack's personality as well as his physical appearance.**

**Here's the profile for TV Series Season 1.**

**...**

**BASIC INFORMATION**

**Name: Jack McKenzie.**

**Age: 12 (almost 13)**

**Old World Living Area: A small town near Glasgow in Scotland**

**Family: Mother (Helen)-DECEASED, Father (Robert)-DECEASED, Older Brother (Davie)-DECEASED, 8-Year-Old Sister (Natalie)-MISSING, 6-Month-Old Sister (Riley)-IN POSSESSION OF OLD GROUP**

**Theme Song: 21 Guns by Green Day**

**PHYSICAL APPEARANCE**

**Skin: white, pale complexion with slight tan**

**Eyes: CALM-warm chocolate brown, SAD-pale sickly brown, HAPPY-glinting mahogany brown, ANGRY-dark threatening brown, ABSOLUTELY PISSED OFF-dark, swirling brown vortex, almost black**

**Hair: Black, almost shoulder length, fringe covers right eye, combines with eyes to scare others when he glares**

**Eyebrows: arched**

**Nose: straight, defined**

**Mouth: full, pale pink**

**Chin: strong**

**Jaw: slightly angled**

**PERSONALITY  
****Attitude to Apocalypse: pragmatic, realistic, optimistic and determined about finding sisters, has small amount of hope that it will be over in time**

**Hasn't been hidden from reality of the New World, has seen terrible acts of cruelty and monstrous people**

**Experienced loss- lost mother, father and brother **

**Had to make terrible choices- put down mother and father, left sister behind with Old Group**

**Knows what has to be done to survive- trained in ways of killing walkers with guns and knives, hunting, camping, cooking and scavenging**

**Knows his own capabilities**

**Has a knack for judging others**

**Can tell when he is being lied to**

**Extremely vengeful**

**Attitude towards others- sarcastic, kind, suspicious at first (due to Old Group) but caring and loyal once a connection has been made, can become cold when hard decisions have to be made, not afraid to put in own opinion or risk own life to protect others, occasionally prideful and expects everything from himself, when judgement has been made it is almost impossible to change his mind, slightly hypocritical, small amount of arrogance, sees himself as 'above' others due to experiences, extremely vengeful when he or friends are wronged, extends to murderous when family is wronged**

**RELATIONSHIPS**

**Rick: respects and admires him for strength and determination in finding his family. Sees him as a leader. WILL PROTECT WITH OWN LIFE.**

**Glenn: respects for bravery, sarcasm and general personality. WILL PROTECT WITH OWN LIFE.**

**Sophia: formerly oblivious crush, now aware of feelings towards her. WILL PROTECT WITH OWN LIFE.**

**Carl: best friend. Sees a duty to prepare him for apocalypse. WILL PROTECT WITH OWN LIFE.**

**Louis and Eliza Morales: friends. See as rather childish. Does not think he is able to help prepare them for apocalypse. WILL PROTECT WITH OWN LIFE.**

**Lori: respects and scornful at same time for protectiveness of Carl and attempts to keep her family together. Sees inner strength. Knows something is going on with Shane. WILL PROTECT BUT NOT WITH OWN LIFE.**

**Shane: respects leadership of New Group and bravery. Knows something is going on with Lori. WILL PROTECT BUT NOT WITH OWN LIFE.**

**Jacqui: admires intelligence and caring for people. WILL PROTECT WITH OWN LIFE.**

**T-Dog: respects strength and determination but is disapproving of sensitivity towards Merle's insults. WILL PROTECT WITH OWN LIFE.**

**Morales: respects ability to survive and care for his family. WILL PROTECT WITH OWN LIFE.**

**Carol: admires inner strength but is scornful of inability to stand up to Ed. Sees ability to survive. WILL PROTECT WITH OWN LIFE.**

**Jim: doesn't know anything about him. WILL PROTECT BUT NOT WITH OWN LIFE.**

**Ed: despises for abuse of family and general 'arseholery'. Sees as almost as bad as Old Group. WOULD BE HAPPY TO LEAVE TO THE WALKERS.**

**Dale: respects wisdom and admires lack of fear to voice own opinion. WILL PROTECT WITH OWN LIFE.**

**Andrea: admires strength and determination to survive. WILL PROTECT WITH OWN LIFE.**

**Amy: admires and disapproves of light mood in middle of all that is happening. Sees inability to survive. WILL PROTECT WITH OWN LIFE.**

**Daryl: respects strength and loyalty to his brother but disapproves of never thinking before acting. WILL PROTECT BUT NOT WITH OWN LIFE.**

**Merle: despises for being an addict, being racist and general 'arseholery'. WOULD BE HAPPY TO LEAVE TO THE WALKERS.**

**Other members of New Group: doesn't know anything about them. WILL PROTECT BUT NOT WITH OWN LIFE.**

**Natalie and Riley McKenzie: 8-year-old sister and 6-month-old sister respectively. Love more than anything in the world. Sees duty to protect and prepare for apocalypse (he is the 'leader' of the family now), places family above everything else. WILL PROTECT WITH OWN LIFE AND THE LIVES OF THE ENTIRE GROUP.**

**Old Group: hates more than anything in the world. Hoyt is the devil in his eyes, Job and Mickey are just as bad, Shinda and Alan are condemned for association. WILL KILL WITHOUT HESITATION, HAS A 'KILL ON SIGHT' ORDER PERMANENTLY FIXED IN BRAIN.**

**...**

**Here we go! That's the description of Jack during Season One of The Walking Dead TV Show.**

**See you guys next time!**

**Don't forget to Read and Review!**

**SD OUT**


	8. Vatos part 1

**Hi, guys!**

**I know I said I wouldn't update until exams were over but I couldn't help myself. **

**Anyway, here's the next chappie! Enjoy!**

**Chapter 7**

I woke up with a banging headache and spikes of pain slicing through the right side of my face, causing me to groan and inhale deeply for a few seconds before propping myself up on my elbows as Jacqui came in with a glass of water and a bottle of pills and sat them down on the table behind me. I saw the look she gave me, one eyebrow raised, and lifted my hand to my forehead, covering my eyes in slight embarrassment. Jacqui sat down opposite me and continued to watch me as I sat up and popped two painkillers into the glass and took a drink.

After putting the glass down I decided it was time to face the music. "Thanks," I said gratefully. "What happened?" It was rather fuzzy; I remembered treating Ed like the dog he was then walking away, but after hearing my name being called out nothing came to mind.

Jacqui sighed. "That... pig," she started distastefully. "Smacked you with a bottle from behind. He went crazy and stomped on your head, but luckily Shane came in and... stopped it." I noticed the hesitation in her voice and my eyebrows narrowed. I took another drink.

"What did he do?" I asked with a 'here we go again' edge to it.

"Shane, uh... kept punching him, I didn't count how many times, but Ed looks even worse than you do right now. There's hardly anything left of his face. We took you here and Dale stitched you up." Then her voice got a hard tone to it. "You were lucky, Jack. An inch or two higher and you would've died. You'll get away with a few distinct scars. That was a brave thing you did. Stupid, but brave," she complimented back-handedly, critical and caring at the same time. "If you hadn't stepped in, who knows what would've happened. Still, you should'nt have done it. Look what happened to you. You almost died!" Jacqui scolded. I took another drink.

I gave her a wry smile. "I almost died in Atlanta, too, with Merle, but you didn't give me hell for that," I remarked pointedly. The smirk was wiped off my face by Jacqui's victorious grin.

"Oh, don't you worry, Mr. Call of Duty," she warned almost playfully. "I'll get started on that later. But for now, you should get some rest." Her gaze softened and her grin became a caring smile. "You did a good thing, regardless of the outcome. But don't get too comfy; Carl and Sophia are dead worried and they'll barge in here the first chance they get." Then her playfulness became prominent with her grin and glinting eyes. "Nice catch, by the way." I spluttered out my drink.

I didn't really know who she was talking about but I knew what she was talking about. "I don't know what you mean, I don't fancy anyone."

"Of course you don't," she replied sarcastically. "Oh, here comes Carl. I'd get ready to play dead." Then she looked down. "Yeah, that was a bad pun. Anyway, see you around, loverboy."

"Bye Jacqui." I thought for a moment. Who did she mean? Sophia? But I didn't like her. Did I? Damn it, Jacqui, why couldn't you just keep your mouth shut? Now I'm questioning my own orientation! I didn't have time to finish, however, as Jacqui's place was taken by a blue-eyed friend of mine. I finished off the water and sat the glass back down on the table with a slight thud.

"What happened down there, Jack? Nobody'll tell us anything! Who did that to you? Was it Ed? How'd he do it? Why'd he do it? What happened to him?" the boy asked rapid-fire, catching me by surprise. Carl was usually a relatively quiet person when it came to one-on-one conversation, but now he was pelting me with belters.

"Okay, Sheriff Junior, slow down before you give us both migraines," I ordered him as I felt the effects of the painkillers kick in. When he sat down with an expectant look on his face. I sighed tiredly and rubbed my head, lounging back. "First: what happened. I got smashed over the head with a glass bottle and stomped on my face. Second: nobody's saying anything. That's probably because Shane's not telling you a thing, and after what happened, they're probably scared of him." Carl's eyes widened and his jaw dropped and I realised how that must've sounded. "No, no, it wasn't him!" He calmed down. "Third: it was Ed. Fourth: yes, it was Piggy." We shared a chuckle (well, I chortled, Carl ROFLd) and after a while we were left with a smile on our faces. "Fifth: well, that's just the first answer. Sixth: he did it either because I stopped him from beating up his own wife, because I held a gun on him and forced him to follow orders and sit on the truck, or because I basically treated him like a dog." Carl ROFLd again and I smiled at the boy's innocence. He acted like hell wasn't literally waiting on our doorstep. It was... refreshing. It wasn't often that people were left untouched by the New World. My new friends were lucky. Still, if he wasn't taught how to survive, he didn't stand a chance out there, especially if he got seperated. I need to have a talk with Rick later when he came back, I thought. Lori wouldn't hear a word of it, definitely. She thought she could protect her son from it all, but she couldn't be more wrong. It didn't matter who you were, what measures were taken, this New World got us all sooner or later. Rick, on the other hand, was more sensible. I could tell he knew already that Carl had to be prepared, and soon. I could most likely convince him to let me teach him how to do different things to survive like using knives and the basics of hunting and scavenging when Lori wasn't looking. I was snapped out of my thoughts by a hand waving in front of my face.

I shook my head and continued. "Anyways, last: Shane beat him up," I told him bluntly.

"That's an understatement," I heard Carl mutter under his breath and smiled. "There's nothing left of his face," he spoke up louder. I grinned.

"I know it's wrong to say it, but good." I heard voices calling for Carl.

"Yeah," he agreed. "Well, great to see you're okay, Jack, but I think that's my mom."

A familiar voice came from outside the RV. "Carl, your mom's shouting fo-" Sophia stopped short as she saw me raise my hand in greeting. "Jack! You're okay! Um, Carl..."

"Yeah, yeah, I hear her," our friend muttered and stood up. "Bye!" Then he left in a flash.

Sophia sat down on the edge of the seat/bed as I laid down and examined my stitches worriedly. I smiled at the care she was taking, but it was evidently too wide as I winced in pain.

"Oh, sorry!" she exclaimed and immediately took her hand off my chin.

"No, no," I reassured her quickly. "It wasn't you, I just smiled too wide, that's all." Sophia seemed to relax.

"Um... Jack?" she started quietly.

"Hm?"

"I saw what happened. I was playing with Louis and Eliza and saw it when they started arguing again. That, um... was really brave. Really great."

"Thanks," I blushed. Why? What was so different?

"And I appreciate you standing up for my mom like that, and..." she trailed off nervously.

"And?" I pushed gently.

Sophia to think for a moment, eyebrows furrowed and hands fumbling. I noted how cute she looked when she did that. Wait, what? No, no, no! Don't think like that, Jack! Then Sophia did something completely unexpected, but not altogether unwelcome.

She kissed me.

On the lips.

All thought drifted away, as though it were swept by a cloud as our lips connected. I didn't think about the people outside, or the walkers, or the group who were maybe dead in Atlanta. I didn't even think about my sisters. Either of them. The only thing I was aware of was Sophia's lips molded into my own, our mouths moving in tandem with the taste of strawberry lacing the air. Sparks were charging down through my body, leaving everything else paralysed.

Then she pulled away.

I didn't have time to acknowledge the feeling in my stomach. I barely caught sight of the fiery blush on Sophia's face before she rushed out the room, leaving me alone.

So that was it.

Everything clicked.

Our blushes, our awkward silences, the feelings squirming through my stomach, the occasional moments when our hands would brush for a second and shocks would fire up my arm.

It all made sense now.

We liked each other.

And nothing made me feel worse.

...

**Okay, so Jack is no longer oblivious to his feelings towards Sophia, but why does he regret them?**

**Also, how will he be reunited with each of his sisters? And how will he react when he comes up against the Old Group again?**

**All shall be answered in due course, mi amigos.**

**See you with the next chapter!**

**SD OUT**


	9. Vatos Part 2

**Hey, guys! I've been working hard on both this and "Use Me", so I can only hope I'm still doing a good job on both of them. If not, point out where I'm going wrong and suggest how I can fix it. **

**Honestly, your opinions mean everything to me. So review. I eat reviews for breakfast, so I've kinda been starving lately; I eat 5 a day. The more reviews I get, the less hungry I am, and the less hungry I am, the more I can bring myself to update, capisce?**

**By the way, I'm sorry, but the Macon Survivors won't show up until later on. I'm working it in between Episode 1 and 2, so try and guess when it is. It won't be for a while, so I'm really sorry for those who're desperate for Jack to meet them.**

**Anyhoo, let's get on with the next chappie!**

**...**

**Chapter 8**

I stepped out the RV and stretched, catching the midday break. Dale stood on the roof, rifle by his side, and saluted me with his forefinger. Shane raised his eyebrow with a slight grin as he cleaned his shotgun. Morales and his wife smiled wryly and nodded their approval. Jacqui was with Andrea and Amy, and all three simultaneously smiled, shaking their heads in slight amusement. Lori looked critical and worried at the same time, yet also relieved, contrasting with her son, who was grinning like the Cheshire Cat. Carol looked grateful, worried, relieved and ashamed all together. Sophia was avoiding my gaze, staring blankly at the piece of paper in front of her.

I stood there awkwardly, and once everyone was focused on their own business, I went over to Carl and Lori; the boy still looked fit to burst. I smiled mockingly and asked, "Any particular reason for the grin, boyo?"

He just kept grinning while his mother's eyes narrowed. "Nope," he replied unconvincingly. "Just happy with the sunshine. It's certainly _not_ to do with my best friend and his crush!" Then Lori's eyebrows raised while she smiled teasingly herself as my own fell.

"Did I hear right?" she inquired playfully. "A crush? Who might it be? A certain blonde haired girl whose name begins with an 'S'?"

I blushed furiously at the statement. "N-no, I..." I tried to persist, but ultimately failed at the giggles coming from the two. I decided to change the subject and deflect to an important issue. "Look, Lori, can I talk to you for a second? It's kinda serious."

Lori looked surprised. "Okay," she acquiesced confusedly, before following me into the RV. "What's wrong?"

"It's about Carl." She looked taken aback at the directness of my answer.

"What about him?" she asked worriedly. "Did something happen?"

"No, no," I assured her quickly. "It's just... he needs to be prepared. For this world, I mean." Lori looked furious and protective. She was about to interrupt before I beat her to the chase. "Not altogether right now. That would obviously be too much, too fast. I'm talking about introducing him to survival techniques: hunting, camping, killing walkers after a while. What if he got seperated from the group, or kidnapped? Or something happened to Rick and Shane? He needs to know how to do these things."

Lori calmed down and thought for a moment. A long time, actually, then she spoke up. "I can't say I'm happy about the idea, but you may have a point. But I won't have my little boy killing walkers," she stated firmly. I half-smiled.

"Eventually, Lori, we'll all have to fight the dead. Even Carl, Sophia, the twins. This is the world that the five of us are growing up in now. The Old World is dead," I told her. "It's dead and it won't come back. None of them can be hidden from it. You want to know what we do now?" I asked rhetorically. "It's a simple rule. The only thing we can: we fight or we die. I don't mean to tell you how to do your job, but..."

Lori pursed her lips and took a deep breath. "Maybe. I'll talk it over with Rick when he gets back." Then her expression changed. "You're something else, y'know that? You're stupid, but intelligent. Headstrong, but a thinker. Cruel, but kind. Pragmatic yet optimistic. Young, but the farthest thing from a kid I've ever met. I just don't know what to think of you. And it bugs the life out of me."

I smiled wide at the summary, ignoring the spike of pain splitting the right side of my face in a million different pieces. "Mysteriousness is something I like to emulate. Keeps people on their toes," I told her happliy. "And if people are on their toes, you're more likely to see what they're really like."

"Hmm," she replied. "You're one strange kid, Jack McKenzie, I'll give you that." Then we left, Lori heading for Carl, me walking over to Carol and Sophia, to the conversations I was dreading.

Carol looked up immediately and gave a kind, yet apologetic smile. Sophia glanced, before her eyes widened and she focused on her paper again. Maths, it seemed like. I couldn't really tell from this distance. "Hi, Jack," Carol greeted awkwardly. "I'm very sorry about-" I silenced her with my hand.

I smiled reassuringly. "It's not your fault, Carol. Did you act like a git? A pig, hmm? Did you smash me over the face with a bottle and ground it into my face? No, so please stop blaming yourself," I begged, giving her the puppy eyes. I saw Sophia smile, though she tried to hide it.

Carol lightened up and chuckled at the look on my face. "I guess. You were right, earlier; I can't let him treat us like this. He's abusive and cruel, and I won't just stand by and let him do it anymore," she stated absolutely. My smile turned to one of pride.

"Great," I replied gratefully. "You're a good person, Carol, and how you got with a pig like Ed is beyond me." Glad that one was out the road, I turned to the one I was _not_ looking forward to in the slightest. "Listen, is it okay if I borrow Sophia for a bit?" I asked as confidently as possible, forcing a smile. Sophia stilled instantly.

Carol smiled at her daughter, raised an eyebrow and nodded her head in my direction. "Go on," she encouraged, as Sophia slowly put her pencil down and got to her feet, clearly not liking this any more than I was. She walked in front of me to the RV, leading the way through the landscape and closed the door once I was in.

We stood awkwardly for a minute, me curling and uncurling my fists and looking anywhere but Sophia, who had crossed her arms and was staring at the ground uncomfortably, biting her lip. Then she asked, "Well?" in a small voice.

I took a deep breath and forced myself to look into her deep sapphire-blue eyes. (I don't know if that really is Sophia's eye colour, but it's going to be in my story, just like her hair is going to be actually shoulder length instead of just under her ears.) I started nervously, "Look, the thing is... we can't do this. _Be _this, I mean. You know, _together_," I elaborated, and Sophia looked crestfallen. "It's not anything wrong with you, I mean I like you, Sophia, a lot." Her face lit up and she was about to smile before I continued. "But we just can't."

"Why not?" she asked, her face almost unbearable to look at. "I like you, you like me, so what's the problem?"

It was painful, but I continued. "Sophia, when people get attached, like _seriously_ attached, it just hurts even more when they're killed. We can't help with the attachments we already have, like our families, but we can stop new relationships."

She frowned, almost angry. I had faced hordes of walkers and just muttered to myself, gotten thrown off a building and merely deflected all concern, but now? I was scared. _Really fucking terrified._ "So you're saying that you won't go out with me, even though you just admitted that you liked me, because you're _scared_!" she demanded, a frightningly determined look on her face. I didn't move an inch, just stayed in a flinching position. "Well, let me tell you something, Jack McKenzie, you are a freaking _coward_ !"

Damn, that was a blow to my pride; a girl telling me I was a coward? Wait, _coward_ ? She knew nothing about me. _Nothing!_ I glared into her eyes, a fire burning in my own. I could see the almost inexistent flinch, and inwardly smiled in twisted satisfaction, though my outside remained the same: pissed off.

"Listen to me, Peletier," I snarled, keeping my voice quiet so we wouldn't draw attention. "You don't know a damn thing about me! Try fighting herds of walkers with no way out, try being thrown over the side of a building and just telling the guy to go to hell, try leaving one sister with a pack of rapist murderers, and not going back for the other when you get seperated by a pack of walkers in the middle of the goddamn city, try _slamming an axe into your mother's head and shooting your father with his own fucking gun!_ Maybe I am scared to get attached to someone, but that's just because I don't want to lose anyone else!"

Sophia looked scared I was going to hit her but I was long past caring. How fucking_ dare_ she! She had no idea what I'd been through, what I'd seen!

"Now if you do all that, then call me whatever you like, but until then, don't presume to know me, because you won't like what you find, the things I'm capable of!" I threatened. "I never claimed to be a good guy, but if you'd seen what I plan to do my Old Group, you would declare me the _fucking devil!_ _You'd go running to Hitler for protection! _You have no idea what this world is really like, what it turns people into!"

Then I gladly delved into my story, cruelly enjoying the shocked look on the girl's face.

"The Old Group saved me, my dad, my sixteen-year-old brother, my 8-year-old sister and my 6-month-old sister from a herd. We thought they were good people, but oh boy, were we wrong!" I told her, still glaring, my eyes the almost black pit they were once I got seriously angry. "A week later we came across a Latino family like Morales'. They were starving, they needed help. There were a mother and father, and two daughters. Hoyt had them tied up, and shot the mother dead. Then Job and Mickey _raped_ the daughters, Hoyt shot the father after making him watch his daughters be defiled, then the girls. No hesitation. My brother yelled at him, shouting this and that. You know what Hoyt did? He _fucking blasted three rounds into his chest with a fucking smile on his face!_ Me and my dad ran back to camp and grabbed Natalie, but Hoyt snatched up Riley before we could get her. We left her behind! And when I find them, all that will seem like they gave the family a nice cold drink on a hot day!"

Sophia was breathing heavily and gasping, but I kept ranting.

"I won't date you because I already too goddamn care much about this entire group!" I spat furiously. "If I reject you, I have my reasons, but like I said, don't presume to know me, because you won't like what you find! And don't act like I'm the coward for not wanting to get in a relationship; aside from it being meaningless _bullshit_, it's a distraction I don't need right now! I'm going to find Riley and Natalie, and kill entire Old Group, and nothing will get in the way of that! I seriously don't need all the shit this group has on it already, and you want me to get all kissy-kissy with someone who has absolutely _no fucking chance of surviving?!_ You won't last the week, Peletier, so no, I _won't_ go out with you! Attachment makes you weak! You're _pathetic_, Peletier, so I have two more words for you: _fuck off!_"

Sophia was gasping quicker and quicker, and I realised that she was having a panic attack. I snorted disparagingly at her weakness, unable to take rejection? This girl was a weakling. She was staring into space and the short breaths didn't let up; it wouldn't be long before she passed out so I grabbed her shoulders and shook her.

"Peletier," I demanded, though the pissed off attitude was waning slowly. "Look at me. I'm not gonna hit you, okay, so just calm the hell down!"

The girl gulped and took a deep breath before sitting down.

"I'm sorry, Jack," she apologised in an even smaller voice than earlier. "I didn't... I didn't think. I didn't know."

Everything wore off and I felt my eyes return to their normal state. I felt my blood cool off and I realised how cruel I'd actually been.

"No, Sophia, _I'm_ sorry," I countered, ashamed. "There was no way you could know, and what you said didn't warrant half of how I treated you. I just... I don't want to lose anyone else, but that can't be avoided, so I'm trying not to get attached, though that's not exactly working, is it?"

Sophia gave a short chuckle, though her face didn't change the slightest. "No, not really. You almost got killed protecting my mom, you almost got killed protecting T-Dog, the entire group admires you, so yeah, you've got attachments here, like it or not."

I felt so ashamed and weakened. "I'm really sorry, Sophia. I acted like a total arsehole, and you didn't deserve that."

Sophia smiled slightly and gave me a hug. "It's okay, Jack. I understand why we can't... and when you find your Old Group, whatever you do..." She looked deep into my eyes. "They deserve everything you do to them. You're a good man. You'll find your sisters, and they'll be okay, because if anyone can keep them safe, it's you." I gave a small smile back, grateful for the encouragement and forgiveness.

"Thanks, Soph. Still, maybe we should... stay out of each other's way for a while? Till all of... _this_ blows over?" I suggested timidly, regarding our feelings.

"Yeah," she agreed. "Still, keep in mind, sometimes having someone else isn't all that bad..." Sophia placed her hand on mine and smiled at me before walking out.

I sat and thought for a moment. Was she right? _Would_ it be okay for us to be together? God, this was a real mindfuck. I know what you must be thinking; "What's the mindfuck? Either get with or don't!" but everything I said was true. If she knew just _what_ I planned to do, if _any_ of them did... everyone would despise me for it. And she wasn't exactly a walker-killing badass, was it worth it? A short time of happiness with her followed by a _long_ depression after her death?

Would I regret it if I didn't?

...

I was polishing the barrel of my Python(a sort of therapy, I supposed) as I was still thinking it through when Dale came in. I looked up to see disapproval, pride, encouragement and pity all in one and I knew he had heard everything. _Everything._

"I heard everything." See? I called it.

"Heard what?" I asked, hoping he didn't mean Sophia and Lori. He fixed me with that look of his.

"You know what," he asserted firmly. I holstered my Python and looked down.

"Yeah, I do."

Dale sat down next to me and let out a breath. "I can't say I agree with the way you treated Sophia..." I closed my eyes in shame. "But it wasn't entirely unjustified. Regardless, I could tell you didn't just mean kill your old group. I won't pry, but keep in mind that revenge doesn't make you feel better-"

"Just stop right there, Dale," I interrupted. "What I plan on doing to Hoyt and the brothers before killing them is my revenge, and I couldn't care less on how I'd feel afterwards. But killing them? The entire group? That's about keeping people safe from them. It's about keeping my sisters safe from them."

"Riley's the only one with them," Dale pointed out. I glared at him, though not as strongly as I did at Sophia.

"It doesn't matter. I'll find Natalie as well," I stated confidently. "And if I don't kill them, they'll just keep raping, keep murdering, and I can't let that happen." Dale smiled.

"Well, at least you're principled," he said, though not happily, I noted. "Though I'd think on what she said. Having that special someone can be a good thing."

"Don't patronise me," I snapped at him. "I need to keep Riley and Natalie safe. Nothing else matters. Getting together with Sophia would just complicate things. And it wouldn't be fair on her, anyways."

"Yeah well... and you're right about Carl; he needs to be taught. I'm guessing you'd be the one?"

"Maybe."

Dale gave a "Hmmm..." and stood up before smiling, giving me a nod which I returned, and left.

There's another person who thinks I should be with her, but I was right. It was too risky, and it wouldn't end well.

**...**

**I know Jack behaved like a real dick this chapter, but he seemed too... perfect? A little headstrong, but never really did a bad thing. The New World's effects on him didn't really show. I wanted him to do something a little crazy, a little psychopathic, and what better than having him blow up at someone he really cares about?**

**Also I think Jack had a point. Hasn't everyone in TWD been affected really badly and permanently by losing people they care about? For example Andrea became suicidal for a time, then focused that on trying to prove herself, which lead to Daryl being shot. After being forced to kill Shane Rick became a cold-hearted autocrat for over 9-months, and even now, by the end of Season 4, he still hasn't recovered from losing Lori, whom Carl became even more cold than Rick after killing, to the point where he gunned down a surrendering kid in cold blood without hesitation, which was also influenced by his inadvertent causing of Dale's death. And after Michonne put down Penny, the Governor became a true psychopath. **

**Despite these, it can have positive effects too, such as Carol becoming a hardened survivor after losing Sophia, although she also pushed Lizzie and Mika a little too hard when telling them to be 'strong' after and even before adopting them, which may have contributed to Lizzie killing Mika, with the belief that nothing would change about her.**

**Anyways, I wanted Jack to get pissed at Sophia for a reason which had an actual point to it. I hope I made it believable enough and engaging enough. I felt really bad about doing that to Sophia, but everyone has a tipping point, and calling Jack a coward made him think about everything he'd been through, and he took it all out on Sophia. Now that he's got it out, maybe he won't freak about something like that again.**

**This chapter also served as a pre-warning for what Jack will do to Hoyt and the brothers at the end of this season.**

**Yes, Jack will get seperated from the group in season 2, but he won't reach Macon at that point. This is when he'll get Carl's injury from the comics. (Can anyone guess what I'm talking about?)**

**DON'T FORGET TO HIT THAT SEXY REVIEW BUTTON!**

**SD OUT**


	10. Vatos Part 3

**Hi guys!**

**I was going to keep writing the previous chapter with this but decided it was long enough and just wrote it in a different chapter (obviously or we wouldn't be here right now). Which means 2 chappies in 1 day!**

**Here comes the attack on the Atlanta Camp, so please tell if I do a crap job of doing the actual battle; like I've said time and again, you guys' opinions mean everything to me.**

**Anyway, enjoy the chappie!**

**Chapter 9**

I sat on my log, staring at the tree line across the quarry as Dale caught everyone's attention and stated that, "We may have a bit of a problem," and pointed at the hill, where Jim stood, digging holes for some reason. We all looked at each other before following Shane up to the hill.

Shane just stood for a minute, looking at Jim digging and digging and digging, before saying, "Hey, Jim?" The man ignored him. "Jim, why don't you hold up, alright? Just give me a second here, please."

Jim stopped and leaned on the shovel, fixing Shane with a bored glare. "What do you want?"

"We're a little concerned, that's all," Shane told him patiently.

Morales interjected, "Dale says you've been out here for hours."

Jim looked confused, despite the fact that he was breathing heavily under the blaring heat of the sunlight which was almost unbearable. I didn't know how he could've been out here for _hours_, I might not last half of one if the heat kept up. "So?" he asked, even though he was covered in so much sweat it looked as though he had been out in the rain.

"So why are you digging?" Shane inquired concernedly. "Are you heading to China, Jim?" He laughed at his own joke.

Jim smiled at him, though something was off about it; he seemed irritated. "What does it matter? I'm not hurting anyone." Then he got back to digging. His manner was actually rather creepy, as though he was just waiting for someone to say the wrong thing so he'd have a reason to blow up at them, not much different from myself with Sophia earlier. I winced at the memory.

"Yeah except maybe yourself," Dale said. "It's 100 degrees today. You can't keep this up."

Jim seemed to take this as a challenge. "Sure I can. Watch me." And he dug faster. Lori walked up next to Dale.

"Jim, they're not gonna say it, so I will," she stated. "You're scaring people." Jim stopped again. "You're scaring my son and Carol's daughter."

I looked over at them, both held by Carol, who had Sophia's hand in hers and arm around Carl's shoulder. Sophia seemed creeped out, but she was hiding it well, simply staring blankly at him. Carl, on the other hand, looked as though he didn't know what to think, eyebrows narrowed in confusion, as his stare looked a little like a small glare.

Jim sighed in exasperation. "They got nothing to be scared of." Lori shrugged and Dale sorted the rifle sling. "I mean, what the hell people? I'm out here by myself. Why don't y'all just go and leave me the hell alone?"

I took a step forward. "Because at this rate you're gonna work yourself to death like a mangy old dog before the day is out," I informed him as all eyes turned to me. I looked at Jim sympathetically. "Hell, you look a little like a walker already. A sweaty walker, but..." Jim smiled at me with no emotion inside except mild amusement before getting back to work.

"We think that you need to take a break, okay?" Shane said. Jim didn't even bother to take notice of him. "Why don't you go and get yourself in the shade?" he suggested kindly. "Some food maybe. I'll tell you what, maybe in a little bit, I'll come out here and help you myself." Then he tried the 'ask him questions till he bores to death' approach. "Jim, just tell me what it's about." No reply. "Why don't you just give me that shovel?"

Jim stopped and glared at Shane, annoyed. "Or what?" he challenged, a hard edge to his voice.

Shane looked taken aback. "There is no 'or what'. I'm asking you. I'm coming to you and I'm asking you, please. I don't wanna have to take it from you."

"Bad move," I muttered under my breath. Now he'd screwed up. There was no chance except force now.

"And if I don't, what then?" Jim smiled in a 'that's right' manner as he leaned in and properly glared at Shane, almost angry now. "You're gonna beat my face in like you did Ed Peletier, aren't ya?" Oh, great. Now here we go. Jim addressed the crowd. "Y'all seen his face, huh? What's _left_ of it!" He leaned back in to Shane and stared him meanly right in the eyes. "See, now, that's what happens when someone crosses you."

"That was different, Jim," Shane told him as calmly as possible.

Amy spoke up, "You weren't there! Ed was out of control. He was hurting his wife. Hell, he almost _killed_ Jack for stopping him." She pointed at my face as I looked straight at Jim.

"That is their marriage! That is not his!" Jim blew up, pointing right at Carol, who was holding Sophia in close. "And him!" He pointed at me. "He should've known better than to interfere with business that don't concern him! Ed is one very violent man! That kid shouldn't have stepped in!" I just looked unblinkingly at him and he turned back to Shane. "You are not judge and jury! Who voted you King Boss, huh?" he demanded mockingly.

Shane took another step closer. "Jim, I'm not here to argue with you. Just give me the shovel, okay?"

He kept walking closer to Jim, who stepped back, muttering, "No, no, no," as Shane tried to grab the shovel then pushed him away and swung said shovel right at his head. Shane quickly ducked and dived into Jim, knocking him to the ground and pinning his arms around his back. "You got no right!" Jim screamed, though it was muffled by him being pressed into the ground. "You got no right!"

"Jim, just stop it," Shane soothed. "Hey, hey, hey, hey, Jim! Jim, nobody's gonna hurt you. You hear me? Shh... Jim, nobody is gonna hurt you, okay?"

Jim whimpered, "That's a lie. That's the biggest lie there is." Shane cuffed his wrists. "I told that to my wife and my two boys. I said it a hundred times. It didn't matter. They came out of nowhere. There were dozens of 'em. Just pulled 'em right out of my hands." He looked Lori in the eye. "The only reason I got away was cos the dead were too busy eating my family." Jim calmed down after that, closing his eyes and sighing.

...

Myself, Carl and Sophia were all sat around a wooden table with Carol and Lori beside us and Jim tied to a tree near us, homework sheets in front of us. _Actual homework sheets!_ What kind of torture would those two think up next? Speaking of torture, what else could I do to Hoyt? Hmmm... Carol's finger tapping the paper brought me back to my senses.

Okay, I can do this, I thought.

giEnhsl wkrmHoeo snoQuei epPra 1

Goddamit!

I squinted harder.

Englsih Homrokew Quesniot Papre 1

Oh, right, it was English. Freaking American English into the bargain.

I'd never told anyone this before, not even my own family but whenever I tried to read something, the words were always jumbled up and the letters were here, there and everywhere. I looked it up on the internet (after memorising a keyboard setup) and after a long time found out it was called "Dyslexia". Carol took note and asked me, "Are you okay, sweetie?"

"Eh, oh, yeah. Just... yeah." I kept looking from her to the paper, unusually nervous. I gave her what I hoped was a reassuring smile and looked back down.

"What's wrong?" Carl asked me. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. I twirled the pencil.

All eyes were on me. "Damnit. Okay, I, uh..." I gulped. "I'm... dyslexic," I finished, flushing from embarrassment. I hated admitting things being wrong with me; I didn't want people thinking I was some attention-seeking dick.

"Why didn't you say?" Lori asked concernedly.

I sighed. "I just... figured I might as well give it a go." I smiled at them. "I'll be alright. It'll just take a while."

I tried to concentrate on my paper when Dale came over to Jim with Shane, who carried a bucket. Shane bent down and had a short conversation with Jim, which ended with him giving Jim a cup to drink water out of then afterwards pouring the rest of the cup over his head. They continued talking and I managed to get through the first question: Give Each Singular Word its Plural Ending.

Once I was done Jim called to the women, "Sorry if I scared your boy and your little girl."

Lori gave him a little smile and told him, "You had sunstroke. Nobody's blaming you."

"You're not scared now, are you?" he addressed the other two.

Carl just shook his head whilst Sophia said, "No, sir." I wondered to myself why she was always super-polite to adults and spoke to them like they were royalty. They were no different, except they'd been on the planet longer.

"And you, Jack? I'm sorry for what I said. It was a good thing you did."

I looked at him and gave him a smile, telling him, "Like Lori said, you had a stroke. You weren't exactly thinking straight."

"Jim, do you know why you were digging?" Dale inquired. When Jim didn't answer he asked, "Can you say?"

"I had a reason," Jim replied weakly. "Don't remember. Something I dreamed last night." He turned to Carl and caught his attention with, "Your dad was in it. You were too. You were worried about him. Then I remember it being morning and you, Jack? Your finger had blood on it. You extended it on a rock. Everyone looked shocked. Can't remember the rest." Ah well, I thought. Just a dream. "You worried about your dad?" he asked Carl.

"They're not back yet," Carl replied simply, though his undertone suggested that he really wasn't. He remembered our pep-talk from this morning, good.

Lori rubbed Carl's back and said, "We don't need to talk about that." Her eyes were slightly shiny.

"Your dad's a police officer, son," Jim reassured him. "He helps people. Probably just came across some folks needing help, that's all. That man, he's tough as nails. I don't know him well but... I could see it in him. Am I right?" he asked Shane.

"Oh, yeah," the man replied, though he refused to look in Lori's general direction. What was going on with those two, unless... oh fuck. Oh-ho, that's not good. You have not been a good boy at all, have you Shane?

Jim spoke again. "There ain't nothing gonna stop him from getting back to you and your mom, I promise."

"He's right," I added. "In Atlanta Rick got us out of there even after going all Clint Eastwood on the streets. He came up with an ingenious plan, which admittedly failed due to the rain, but he got us out. And he's a walker-killer. So's Daryl. And T-Dog, he's... well, T-Dog and Glenn knows Atlanta inside and out. They'll go in, get Merle and the guns, help whoever they need to help and get out and back here. I mean come on, he and Shane were partners in the Old World. So I don't think he'll pass up an opportunity to prove him wrong. Pair of little kiddies, they pair of you."

"Yeah," Shane replied, actually smiling as he reminisced. "Alright, who wants to help me clean out some fish?" he asked Carl, Sophia and me.

The three of us ran after him.

...

It was pitch black as we passed the fish fry around, the campfires burning warmer than last night but no higher. A few flies buzzed around and more than a few midges were nesting in our hair. A general cheery attitude was spread throughout the camp, people laughing and cracking jokes. Even Jim seemed a little better, although his eyes told a different story; a sense of foreboding gleamed from them, as though his dream began like this.

The adults all had beer and we 'children' were given cans of Coca Cola (well, me and Carl did, Sophia got Pepsi) and of course I'd already finished my coke and had slyly filled it with beer. Ha ha, who da boss now? Naturally I hid the knowledge from all except Carl, who demanded a taste and nearly spat it out when I acquiesced.

"I've gotta ask you, man," Morales told Dale, getting everyone's attention. "It's been driving me crazy."

"What?" Dale asked with that grandfatherly smile of his.

"That watch."

Dale played around with said object before replying, "What's wrong with my watch?"

"I see you every day, same time, winding that thing, like a village priest saying mass." Sounds of agreement and nodding flew through the entire circle.

"I've wondered this myself," Jacqui said.

"I'm missing the point," Dale asked confusedly, though still smiling widely.

"Unless I've misread the signs, the world seems to have come to an end," Jacqui informed him. "At least hit a speed bump for a long while."

"But there's you," Morales continued. "Every day, winding that stupid watch."

"Time," Dale excused himself smoothly. "It's important to keep track isn't it? The days at least? Don't you think, Andrea? Back me up here." Andrea just shook her head amusedly and took another drink of beer. "I like, um... I like what, what a father said to son, when he gave him a watch that had been passed down through generations."

He had the rapt attention of everyone in the group, even at the other circle.

"He said, 'I give you the mausoleum of all hope and desire, which will fit your individual needs no better than it did mine or my father's before me. I give it to you, not that you may remember time, but that you may forget it, for a moment, now and then, and not spend all of your breath trying to conquer it."

We all stayed there for a minute, silent in reply to Dale's speech which amazingly made a great deal of sense. Then Amy topped it all off by stating, "You are so weird."

A series of giggles ran through the group, and I defended the old man with, "No, no, no, Amy, Amy, Amy. There's a very fine line between 'weirdness' and 'eloquence'."

Everyone laughed again as Dale called, "Thank you, Jack."

I replied, "Admittedly he does sit smack bang in the centre, maybe a little bit to the left, but..." Dale looked shocked as everyone laughed. Amy high-fived me and we gave each other a victory hug before she got up.

"Where're you going?" Andrea asked.

"I have to pee," Amy replied in a fake whisper. "Jeez, you try to be discreet around here!" The group sniggered again as Amy went to the RV.

After a minute she came back out again and called, "We're out of toilet paper?" as a man came from around the RV and towards her.

Wait, that wasn't a man...

"Amy, look out!" I yelled as I got up and shot the walker dead with my new Beretta. So it worked. Huh.

Oh shit!

"Walkers!" I screamed.

Then mass chaos ensued. Walkers were pouring out of the greenery, surrounding the camp. I wasn't fast enough to get the walker on Amy's other side before it sank its teeth into her neck. I pulled the trigger, getting it, but not fast enough.

Everyone screamed and ran like bats out of hell, the ones that didn't get chewed up immediately grabbed a makeshift weapon and started smacking any walkers they could reach. I heard Shane yell something and fire off shotgun rounds, taking a few walkers down. I saw the other circle get torn to pieces; they were right on the fringes of the forest. I took out my knife and held it in my left hand in the icepick grip under my right wrist, which was raised in a firing position.

Walkers were everywhere. Wherever I looked someone else got a bite or smashed a walker's head in. The unpleasant stench of the undead filled my nostrils and I blocked out the screams of the newly dead. Every time a walker got close I slammed my knife into its forehead. One grabbed my shoulders and was about to bend in for its next meal when I remarked, "Damn, you are one ugly skank," and thrusted my knife up her throat and it must've reached her brain because she fell dead instantly.

I fired off a few rounds at a couple of walkers that got to Carol and Sophia and rushed over, checking them for bites, scratches, anything. Nothing, good. I saw Jim smack the walker gnawing on Amy with his baseball bat so hard it was (re-)dead before it hit the ground. We regrouped with Lori, Carl and Shane as he shouted for us to make our way up to the RV.

One walker grabbed Sophia. I pulled it off and sliced through its undead skull like a watermelon. We started moving again, catching up with Shane.

Then one grabbed me from behind. I could feel its filthy breath on my neck and I yelled before another crashed into it and they both fell on top of me as I landed on my back.

"Go!" I shouted at Carol and Sophia, who reluctantly followed my order as I glared at them with purpose. Then another fell on top of the two already on me.

"Oh, are we playing 'pile-up'!" I yelled bravely, in contrast to my enormous amount of fear. If I died tonight, who would protect Riley and Natalie?

The thought of my sisters brought me back to reality as I blasted a bullet into one before yet another walker added to the pile. I blasted into the next two then I ran out of ammo in my clip.

Shit!

My knife was out of reach. I stretched and stretched with all my might but to no avail. My Python was in its holster, stuck beneath two walkers. The final walker got closer and closer as I twisted the Beretta in my hand.

I was about to smash its head in when another one of those rotted motherfuckers came from my headside and grabbed my arm. Stricken with fear, I actually thought I had no hope, that I was going to be chomped to pieces then come back and eat my new friends, when I instinctively manouvred the Beretta to a dent in the walker's forehead to create a block between the walker and me, then shoved my arm against the other walker's throat.

I pressed as hard as I could but I knew I wouldn't be able to hold on much longer. Even with the adrenaline pumping through my veins I couldn't hope to match the unrelenting persistence of two walkers competing for the same meal whilst trapped in one place, unable to move. The walkers got closer and closer, almost close enough to gnaw on different parts of my neck, I was ready to give up, and I felt my strength slipping away...

Then the two walkers had holes in their heads, the one on top of me falling on my chest, trapping my arm whilst the other fell onto my other arm.

Well, that's just great.

Ah, it took you fucks long enough.

Rick, Daryl, T-Dog and Glenn were pushing through, destroying the walker hordes quickly as they tore right through their numbers. Rick screamed for Lori and Carl, who ran over and he hugged them both. The other three were busy taking out the rest of the walkers. I was going to call out when I realised this was a comfortable stop, and was in fact the safest place right now, so I rested.

...

All the walkers were gone, the only people left were the ones I took the time to get to know, Andrea was crying over Amy's frozen stiff corpse, and people were starting to begin gathering the walkers.

I heard Rick ask Carl, "Where's Jack?"

Carl sniffed, "He, uh... he went down. Over there." I knew he was pointing at my position. "Walkers kept on falling on him and he kept on fighting, but..."

"Oh, God..."

I heard Carl and Sophia sobbing and Rick, Carol, Lori, Glenn and even Shane trying not to.

I called out, "You know, this is a beautiful moment and all, but I'd very much prefer being _out_ from under these ugly gits. Walkers do kick up quite a stink. I thought you knew that already, Helicopter Boy, having pretended to be one."

"Jack!"

"Me!"

"Yeah," Glenn announced. "It's him."

"Yeah, now get these pieces of crap off me!"

Rick, T-Dog, Daryl and Shane each took a walker and pulled them away. I rolled over and pulled my Beretta out of the walker's forehead, wiped the blood on the guy's clothes, then grabbed my knife and cleaned it, pouring water over it then wiping it off. I was suddenly engulfed by two missiles my own size blasting into me, wrapping their arms around me. I hugged Carl and Sophia back, gave Rick, Carol, Lori and Glenn hugs and knuckle-bumped Daryl, who all looked impressed to say the least. I felt rather pleased with myself.

Louis said, "That was _so_ badass! Four of them on top and you went all "Blam, blam, blam!" on three of them before running out! You couldn't reach the knife but that didn't matter when another came up behind and you shoved the gun into its head and held it off with that hand while holding the other away with your arm! Then the adults came along and went all "Blam, blam, blam!" on those two and pretty much everything else! _So_ cool!"

I blushed and scratch the back of my neck nervously. "Is that really how it happened?" I asked him.

His eyes went wide. "Yeah!"

I smiled smugly at my accomplishment before saying, "Well, we better get to business, huh? Those walkers aren't gonna gather themselves up."

...

**And there's the Atlanta Camp Attack! Hope it was believable enough! If not, point out what I could do to make it better.**

**Really enjoyed writing this chapter and hope it left you wanting more!**

**Don't forget to review!**

**SD OUT**


	11. Wildfire Part 1

**Here's the next chappie! **

**I know what I want to do with the story and where I want to go with it.**

**Still, I'd love to hear things you want me to do and any suggestions you have, no matter how stupid they sound; I can work with them, and I can if I think they sound good.**

**I want to see reviews. Reviews are cool.**

**...**

**Chapter 10**

"What happened to you, Jack?" Rick asked me concernedly. I raised my hand to the scars; the stitches had come out during the fight, and I saw him nod, frowning. I could feel the burning Georgia sun blaring through the roof of the RV as Carl, Sophia and the Twins watched us closely.

I breathed out and told him, "Well, Shane and Carl were catching frogs at the quarry, I was near, on a rock, messing around in the dirt. I found the Beretta there, full clip, the works. Then I saw Ed 'arguing'," I made the motion with my fingers,"With Andrea, Carol, Jacqui and Amy about how he treated Carol and everyone in particular. Things were starting to get violent when I stopped him. When I was going back up the path to camp he came up from behind with a bottle and, well..." I gestured to the scars. "That happened."

Rick muttered, "Son of a bitch..." then he brought me to the end of the RV, away from the others, and leaned in close to my ear. "Lori tells me you think Carl needs to be taught to survive?"

I nodded. "And Sophia, and Louis and Eliza. If they don't learn, how will they live out there?"

Rick looked down for a moment and stared deep into my eyes with his own pale gray orbs. After a while he whispered, "I think you're right. I'd appreciate it if you gave him a few small lessons. Just little things, I'll take care of guns soon enough."

I smiled. "Of course. I'll talk to Carol and Morales later, too. Now, Lori's watching us, and I think she wants to speak with you." Rick turned around and flashed me a trusting smile before heading out to meet his wife.

Carl came over to me. "What was that about?" he asked. I smiled at him.

"Your dad wants me to give you a couple of little survival techniques," I told him. When Carl's eyes widened and he grinned I felt sorry to shoot him down. "No guns. He'll take of that soon enough."

The light on my friend's face but not enough to deter him from commenting, "Awesome! When?"

"Later," I told him firmly. "I'll be teaching you how to track, although Daryl would be better at that he's not exactly patient enough to play 'teacher' for a twelve-year-old. How to tell when an animal's been in the area, things like that, so you can learn how to hunt better."

The grin on Carl's face was even wider than before. I passed him by and exited the RV and walking over to Glenn, who was having trouble moving a walker just by himself. I grabbed the ankles and nodded at him with a smile as we walked to the pile.

"So, why isn't Merle with you?" I inquired to pass the short time. Glenn's face fell.

"He cut himself out before we got there and stole the truck," he replied. "We figured he was coming here to get revenge but obviously not."

We dumped the walker on the pile when it suddenly leaped up and snatched my arm. I yelled and jerked but he had a tight grip. I grabbed a hammer from a nearby stump and felt an immense pain in my right pinky finger. I screamed and tore my hand away.

I twisted the hammer in my left hand and smashed it into the walker's head again, and again, and again. When I was absolutely sure the fucker was dead I dropped the hammer and cradled my finger.

Oh fuck fuck fuck. Fuck, fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

Blood was streaming from a deep hole in my mangled finger, barely holding on one side by the sinew and a small string of flesh. The feeling of pain intensified and everything else blocked out as I took it in.

I'd been bitten.

**...**

**Mwahahahahahahaha...**

**How will the group react to having a bite victim in the group? Well, those of us who've watched Season 1 Episode 5 already know, but how will they react to having a **_**kid**_** who's been bitten? Regardless of his adult thinking and actions, he's still only 12 years old.**

**Find out next time!**

**I know it's a short chapter but I couldn't resist putting it in!**

**SD OUT**


	12. Wildfire Part 2

**Woohoo! Two chappies in one day!**

**So, now there's another problem to add to the mix, with two bite victims in the group. What will each member think about a 12 year old being bitten? **

**It's all here.**

**...**

**Previously...**

Blood was streaming from a deep hole in my mangled finger, barely holding on one side by the sinew and a small string of flesh. The feeling of pain intensified and everything else blocked out as I took it in.

I'd been bitten.

I'd been bitten and I was going to turn into one of those... things. I was going to die slowly, become brittle with the sweltering hot fever as I mentally decompsed and began hallucinating. I was going to die the worst death imaginable.

**...**

Chapter 11

I just stood there, pitifully looking at the bite as sounds of fear, shock and disbelief spread throughout the camp. After a few seconds an idea popped into my head. I ran over to the log-stump and extended my finger over the surface. I took out my knife and breathed deeply, mentally preparing myself for the hard task to come.

"What are you doing?" I heard Shane ask worriedly though I hardly registered it. I was deafened, blinded and numbed to everything except the finger and the knife.

I raised the knife, gritted my teeth and sliced downwards with all my strength, hacking it off from just in front of the knuckle before screaming again into the air as everyone just stared at me, horrified. I paid them no mind.

I took out my lighter and flicked it on, then held it to the bleeding stump. An extra dose of pain exploded through my hand, my wrist, my arm as the flickering flame cauterised the wound. When it was done I put it back and stood up, before stumbling backwards into Shane, who caught me as he said, "Whoa, hey, little man, don't die on me."

"I'm alright," I insisted, more to myself than the former cop holding me back from falling to the ground. "Just a little dizzy from..." Everything went blurry, as though tears had filled my eyes. Shane bent down and placed my arm over his shoulder while he guided me to the RV.

Once in he sat me on the bed. He told me, "You feel warm at all, anything, you tell us, okay?"

I nodded my agreement and watched him take the others out, who all eyed me carefully, fearfully, as though expecting me to leap at them and gnaw on them all. I knew everything had changed now.

I felt tainted. Dirty, as though the infection was already working it's way through my veins. The dizziness was slowly wearing away but I felt tired. I hadn't got any sleep last night, thinking about Amy.

Fuck, Amy.

Could I have moved faster? Pulled the trigger _just that little bit_ quicker? Noticed the bastard before he got too close to her?

Regardless, I knew it was my fault. She was so full of life, so happy and cheerful, and I brought that to an end. If only I'd noticed it quicker...

_Don't think like that, baby bro._

I flinched at the sound of Davie's voice as it echoed throughout the RV. I looked around before laying my head back, though I didn't relax. Hearing voices was the first sign of madness. Was I mad? I wouldn't be surprised.

Or had the hallucinations begun?

I was thrown out of my thoughts by Jacqui's shout of, "A walker got him! A walker bit Jim!"

Oh, no. Jim?

...

_Shane, Morales, T-Dog, Daryl, Carol, Jacqui, Rick, Lori and Dale were gathered in a circle not too far from the RV._

_"I say we put a pickaxe in his head," Daryl declared. "And the dead girl's, and the kid's and be done with it!"_

_"Is that what you'd want if it were you?" Shane demanded._

_"Yeah," came the reply. "And I'd thank you while you did it."_

_Dale spoke up. "I hate to say it, and I never thought I would, but maybe Daryl's right."_

_"Jim's not a monster, Dale," Rick argued fiercely. "Or some rabid dog. And we don't even know if Jack's infected. Maybe he got to it fast enough!"_

_"I wasn't suggesting-" Dale's pleas were cut off._

_"They're sick men. We go down that road, where do we draw the line?"_

_"The line's pretty clear," Daryl informed him. "Zero tolerance for walkers, __**or**__ them to be."_

_"What if we can get them help?" Rick insisted. "I heard the CDC was working on a cure."_

_Shane replied, "I heard that too. Heard a lot of things before the world went to hell."_

_"What of the CDC's still up and running?"_

_"That is a stretch right there."_

_"Why? If there's any government left, any structure at all, they'd protect the CDC at all costs. I think it's our best shot. Shelter, protection-"_

_"You want those things, I do too, okay? Now if they exist, they're at the army base. Fort Benning."_

_"That's 100 miles in the opposite direction," Lori said._

_"That is right," Shane replied. "But it's away from the hotzone. If it's operational, it'll be heavily armed. We'd be safe there."_

_"The military were on the front lines," Rick countered. "They got overrun. We've all __**seen**__ that! The CDC's our best choice and Jim's, maybe Jack's only chance!"_

_Carl, who had been listening with the other kids, put in his opinion. "We should go to the CDC. If that's the only way to save them, we should go. We can't just let them die. It's not right. They're a part of the camp, and Jack's done nothing but help us, even though his own family is still out there! Are we just gonna let him die?"_

_Daryl huffed. "With all due respect, kid-"_

_Dale cut him off. "He's got a point. What kind of human beings are we to not give our own people their only shot at living? Jim's a good man. He got the RV running, and he's lost people. He knows what it's like." The last part was obviously directed at the man with the crossbow. "Also, Jack stood up for T-Dog. He almost __**died**__ going against Merle for him. He almost died protecting Carol from Ed. He's given the other kids someone their own age to go to for help. For advice. For anything, really. They look up to him as much as any of us, maybe more so. Are we just gonna stand by and watch them slowly wear away, grow weak and feverish, and die, only to be unceremoniously killed a second time right after? If we don't go, we'll as well be killing them ourselves!"_

_Daryl glared at Jim before declaring, "You go look for aspirin, do what you need to do," then ran towards Jim, pickaxe raised as he shouted, "But someone need to have the balls to take care of this damn problem!"_

_Rick took a page out of Jack's book, running forward and shoving his gun to the back of the hunter's head before he could slam the pickaxe into Jim. "We don't kill the living," he hissed dangerously._

_Daryl lowered the pickaxe and turned to Rick, stating, "That's funny, coming from a man who just put a gun to my head."_

_Shane, who was standing between Daryl and Jim, backed Rick up. "We may disagree on some things, but not on this. You put it down," he ordered. "Go on."_

_Daryl huffed and shoved the pickaxe into the ground before stalking off._

**...**

I watched as Rick brought Jim in and laid him on the opposite bed. Once the man before was comfortable he turned to me.

"How you feeling, Jack?" he asked me. His voice was plain, devoid of almost all emotion, but I could sense the worry. I inwardly smiled; he didn't need to give a damn about me. He'd found his family, he had no reason to bother with me any more, but he still treated me like his own flesh and blood. He trusted me like his (much younger) brother, he worried about me like an immediate family member, he acted like I _was_ family to him. It felt... good to have someone care. It was a reminder that I wasn't alone.

Don't think like that! I mentally scolded myself. You are alone! All you have left is Natalie and Riley, and they might be-

No! a stronger voicer in the back of my head shouted back. They're not dead! I won't believe it! I won't!

I smiled at Rick and told him, "Fine. Not one problem." He returned the expression.

"Good." The relief was noticable. "Let us know if anything happens or you need whatever. You too, Jim." We both nodded and watched him go out. I rolled over and spoke to Jim.

"What happened out there?" I asked him, as gently as I could. He exhaled and started, literally emotionless.

"Jacqui found out, announced it to the group. They were debating on what to do when Daryl exploded and tried to shove that pickaxe of his into my head. Rick brought me in."

I could feel the slight longing in the undertone of his voice, but for what was harder to determine. Then it came back to me.

_"The only reason I got away was because the dead were too busy eating my family."_

His family. Of course. He blamed himself for their deaths and desired to see them again, to apologise. Survival was a habit; he couldn't bring himself to commit suicide, but now he had a way out. I felt sorry for the poor man, but it was his choice; if he wanted to go, so be it. Who was I to stop him?

"I'm sorry." Jim looked at me strangely. "About your family." He looked pained. "I don't wanna bring up any bad memories, just-"

Jim raised his hand with a humourless smile. "It's okay. If you don't mind me asking, what happened to yours?"

I breathed a light chuckle and smiled wryly. "Well, my mum died the first day, I put her down," I told him without expressing any feeling. Jim looked shocked, which was a change, but I continued. "My brother stood for this family that our group had murdered in cold blood and the leader killed him. Pop-pop-pop. Me and my dad ran back to the camp and grabbed my little sister, but the leader snatched up my baby sister before we could reach her. We left her behind." I cleared the block in my throat and wiped away the tears before they could escape. "In the city we got seperated from my sister by a pack of walkers, and my dad got bit. We escaped into this old barn and I stopped him from turning, with his own gun." I patted the Python. "I'm gonna find them. My sisters. I'm gonna find them and nothing's gonna stop me," I told him with conviction.

Jim looked pessimistic. "But that bite..."

"Which I may have got to quick enough," I interrupted.

"Yeah, but if you didn't, well... I don't really think you got much choice in the matter."

"Like you, you mean?" I shot back. "If it turns out to affect me, I'll steal the pickup and ride it as far as I can. I'll go straight to the old camp and get Riley, bring her here. Then I'll look for Natalie, for however long I have left. It'll be a while; the infection can't have spread far." I sounded a whole lot more confident than I felt, and Jim knew it. He gave me a look but shut up, which I was grateful for.

Then I heard a woman say, "I love you," and then a gunshot.

Andrea.

Amy.

Shit.

...

I notied Jim tossing and turning, sweating as he muttered, "No, no, no," to himself, just like he had yesterday. The fever had definitely hit him, and apparently so had the hallucinations. He was wiping the sweat off his face as he kept murmering. I reached over and grabbed his arm and shook it vigorously, snapping him out of whatever he thought he was seeing.

"It's alright, Jim," I reassured him. "Whatever it is you're seeing, it's not real. Just a figment of your imagination. It's okay."

"I saw them," he whispered, almost pleaded. "They were walkers. They blamed me for it."

I shook his arm again. "They don't blame you, okay? They know you couldn't have done anything for them. Wherever they are." I didn't particularly have a _faith_, so to speak, so much as a philosophy. The biggest bastards of history, like Hitler and Stalin, and the Borgias, they got the worst afterlife of all. Ordinary people were relatively happy, not good and not bad. The heroes, those who lived and died for _something_, they got the best of the lot. Whether it was just floating spirits watching the living, or heaven and hell, or even reincarnation, I imagined that was how it went. The better a person in the first life, the better the next treated you.

Then Carol came in.

"You two okay?" she asked tentatively.

"I'm in perfect health, but he's getting worse," I answered as Jim had began staring into space again. I let go of his arm and settled myself. "The fever's kicked in, so's the hallucinations. At this rate, I'd say he's got just about 5 or 6 hours left."

"Oh, God," she replied, setting a familiar blue bucket and a white basin with some blood in it beside him and wiping the sweat away with an orange rag. "Are you sure you're perfectly okay?" she inquired.

"Crystal vision now that the blood's refilled, no fever, no hallucinations, no sickness. Yep, I'm fit as a fiddle," I finished off with a wry smile, though my eyes didn't leave Jim. Rick entered, followed by Lori.

"His fever's worse," Carol told them, as Jim was finally starting to return to reality.

"Damn," I heard Rick mutter. "And you, Jack?"

"Like I said, fit as a fiddle."

He smiled a little. "Well. I guess you're discharged, then."

I got up, leaned into Jim's ear and whispered, "Don't give up. There's always some hope." Then I said goodbye to the other three and left, but not saying to Rick I'd be taking Carl a little deeper into the woods, which he reluctantly agreed to, and Lori simply pursed her lips, which she seemed to do a lot.

The moment I took a step out the RV I saw the group all stare at me warily.

"It's alright," I assured them quickly, raising my hands. "No infection." They all smiled and went about their business, but I noticed Andrea glaring at me a little. I saw Sophia, Carl and the Twins on the edge of the forest and walked over to them, though I felt a pair of eyes burning into my back with every step I took. Eyes that brought about blame and guilt for a certain blonde-haired girl who I'd failed last night.

The other kids were talking to each other about something when I came up and said, "Oi! No greetings for a previously almost dead friend?" They all turned and grinned widely, though Sophia didn't make eye contact. I still felt bad for how I'd treated her but I didn't think that was what was bothering her. Hmm, I'd work it out later.

After saying my hellos and whatnots I announced to my student in a formal manner, "It's time for your first lesson."

Carl's eyes widened, as did his grin. The others gave me quizzical looks. I told them it was a favour for Rick and took him deeper into the forest, but not too deep.

"So, is this the part where you gut me and dump me in the lake?" Carl questioned playfully.

I replied, "Not at all," in a haughty manner. "This, my young apprentice, is your training ground for the day." Then my attitude became a lot more business-like. "But keep in mind, Carl, this isn't a game. You're learning how to track your own dinner, so pay attention."

Carl visibly matured and became more attentive, which I nodded at. I crouched and he did the same.

I picked up a stick and pointed at one patch of ground, asking, "Is there anything strange about the ground here?" He shook his head. I pointed to another patch. "How about here?" He shook his head again, and seemed surprised when I raised an eyebrow.

Carl leaned in to the area I had pointed in, brows narrowed as he looked intently at the ground. After a minute his eyes widened.

"There's dents in the leaves!" he answered me, like a student replying to the teacher in their favourite class, which this sort of was. "And there's some little lumps of extra leaves, in a straight line."

I grinned proudly at my best friend. He wasn't as air-headed as he made out. He had a sharp mind.

"And this tells us..."

"An animal was here." I rolled my eyes.

"Yes, but it also says that it wasn't that long ago. If it were, then the leaves would have settled. Also, the animal was rather small, judging by the size of the dents." I looked back up to see an open mouth.

"How do you know these things?" he exclaimed incredulously. I chuckled reminiscently, before my face hardened.

"I had a good teacher," I told him in a tone that in itself said aloud 'This conversation is over'. Thankfully, Carl took the hint. He took another close look at the tracks and followed them to a tree. I mimicked his gaze and saw a small grey squirrel a few branches up, biting on a chestnut. "Good eye," I praised to a smug-looking friend of mine. "But we can't catch it and take it to camp."

Carl looked disheartened. "Why?" he whined a tone that reminded me of Natalie. I almost winced at the memory but stopped myself and answered.

"Because we don't have a weapon, nothing to use, and I'm not wasting a shot for one mangy squirrel. If Daryl were here, he could shoot it with his crossbow, no problem, but us..." I trailed off.

Carl narrowed his eyes before taking a look around, clearly not trusting me to tell the truth on the matter. Good, I thought. That's one lesson I won't have to teach him. After a while he picked up a well-shaped rock, about hand-size, and weighed it in his hand. I smiled appraisingly and gestured for him to go on. He was going to just fling it but I stopped him.

I lectured him on how to throw, judging power by distance, using your other arm, that kind of thing. With all of that in mind, he took another try. When I said, "Go on," he threw the rock.

He hit his target.

The squirrel fell to the ground and tried to scurry away, but it seemed as though one leg and arm were both broken. The poor thing looked pitiful, harmlessly tossing its leg out time and again in its vain attempts to escape. I handed Carl my knife.

He gulped and took the knife gingerly from my hand. I didn't want to unsettle him, but he needed to learn. He leaned down and looked at the squirrel painfully before reaching down and slicing its neck. Then he got up and gave me back the knife, and I caught the sound of him unblocking his throat and asked, "Hey, are you alright?"

Carl wiped the tears away and replied sorrowfully, "Just didn't expect it to be this hard, is all."

I smiled compassionately. "You get used to it after a while. Now, come on, let's take your first catch back to camp."

Carl cheered up and grinned as he picked up his dinner for the night. "Race ya!"

**...**

**So how do you think Carl's lesson went? Not long enough, not detailed enough, too weird?**

**Also, was the added branch to the CDC/Benning convo fitting enough for the characters, or too OOC?**

**See you next chappie!**

**SD OUT**


	13. Wildfire Part 3

**Chapter 11**

When we got back the group was huddled up around the campfire Morales had set up the night before. Morales and his family were speaking in hushed tones. Lori was sharpening a stick. Andrea was asleep, which I was grateful for. I was in front.

Carl was in front.

I was in front.

Carl was in front.

On the way I'd tied a string around his belt so he didn't have to carry the squirrel back. Damn morals. I only lost by a foot, but that didn't stop my friend from taunting, "Easy! Easy!" I took in a breath and reminded him I was the one with two guns, a knife, and other equipment to carry, while he only had a single squirrel, but he only snorted and grinned before showing his mother the squirrel he'd killed.

"Wow, this was you?" she asked him.

Carl nodded proudly.

"He's a fast learner," I praised. Daryl raised an eyebrow and gave the smallest hint of a smile. "Later, I'll teach you how to skin it, if we're not on the road by then." Carl grinned enthusiastically as we spotted Rick, Shane and Dale coming back from their sweep, and I noticed Dale was giving Shane a weird look. Rick ruffled his son's hair and gave me a nod as he smiled at the catch. Shane leaned on his shotgun in the middle of the group.

"I've, uh..." he started, as though he didn't really know where to begin. "I've been thinking about Rick's plan. Look, there are no... There are no guarantees either way. I'll be the first one to admit that." He sounded like he didn't like the way the announcement was heading, which told me we were going to the CDC, whether we liked it or not. "I've known this man a long time. I trust his instincts. I say the most important thing is we need to stay together."

Morales looked nervous at this, in fact his entire family did, even Louis and Eliza, who were constantly cheerful.

"So..." Shane continued. "Those of you who agree, we leave first thing in the morning." He stared Rick right in the eyes, as if saying, 'This goes south, it's your head.'

...

We were all gathered by the cars, stacked in a straight line. I was with Carl and Lori, telling him different techniques of stealth: watching where you step, controlling the weight you put on your lead foot, how to pay attention to your surroundings. We looked as Shane briefed us.

"Everybody, listen up!" he called, getting everyone's attention. "Those of you with CBs, we're going to be on Channel 40. Let's keep the chatter down, okay? You got a problem, don't have a CB, can't get a signal, anything at all you gotta hit your horn one time. That'll stop the caravan. Any questions?"

It sounded like a plan to me. Morales, not so much.

"We're, uh..." he said anxiously. "We're not going." He gestured to his family. Everyone looked shocked, my own mouth fell in surprise.

"We have family in Birmingham," his wife continued. "We want to be with our people."

That made sense to me. Blood is blood. Family goes above everything, no matter what.

Shane told them, "You go, you won't have anyone to watch your back."

"We'll take the chance," Morales replied. "I gotta do what's best for my family." He looked me in the eye after saying that and I nodded understandingly.

Rick asked, "Are you sure?"

"We talked about it. We're sure." So that was what they were talking about earlier.

"Alright. Shane?"

"Yeah," the man replied. Rick reached into the bag. ".357?" Shane inquired.

"Yeah," Rick answered. He pulled a black revolver with a wooden grip out and offered it to Morales, who took it and the box of ammo from Shane, who said that it was half-full.

Daryl scoffed and turned away. Morales' wife thanked them for everything as Lori pulled her into a hug. Shane shook the husband's hand and wished them luck. Lori kissed the children on the heads and Eliza threw herself at Sophia who embraced her. The wife thanked Jacqui and hugged her. Eliza pulled away and gave her doll to Sophia, who accepted it sadly. I looked away. Rick told Morales to switch to Channel 40 if they changed their minds as he shook his hand.

Morales came over and I said, "You find the rest of your family, and keep those three safe," as I gripped his arm.

He gripped my own and replied, "Adios, amigo," with a smile.

"Adios." Then I went to the crying twins and gave them both a short hug. "Oh, and Eliza? If he steals any more of you stuff, just do this." I smacked Louis upside the head, but not hard. Despite this, he made an 'ow' and rubbed it as we all laughed.

When all the goodbyes were said and done the family went into their jeep.

"What makes you think our odds are any better?" Shane asked Rick. Then he turned his attention to the rest of the group. "Come on, let's go. Let's move out!"

I got in the Cherokee with Rick's family and watched out the window as we left the camp, left a note saying,

MORGAN

GOING TO CDC

THIS AREA NOT SAFE

RICK

on Glenn's red sports car, which would probably never reach its intended recipient.

...

We drove for what seemed like hours in the scorching Georgia heat and I couldn't keep my mind off of Jim. What state was he in now? He only had a few more hours left by my counting, if he was bitten during the attack. He had to be fragile now, every bump feeling as though it would break his brittle bones into a thousand pieces. The fever be at the top heat at this point.

The train of thought sent me to Natalie. My little sis. Who was she with now? A kind group who would care for her, I hoped. Or was she...

No. My Little Wing would be just fine.

Carl nudged me with his elbow, snapping me out of my thoughts, and pointed at a couple of dogs 'going at it' if you will. We sniggered as Sophia elbowed us and told us to grow up, but with a barely-held grin of her own as she struggled not to laugh.

Then smoke came from the RV and we were forced to stop.

The three of us stayed in the Cherokee while the adults dealt with the RV problem, Carl and Sophia swapping jokes as Carl tried to get me to join in. Eventually I gave in, but not with nice intentions.

"Okay, okay," I stopped him. "You want me to talk? How about food?" Both of them had their eyes wide as they knew what I was about to do. "Would either of you enjoy a lovely, juicy roundhouse steak?" They groaned and begged me not to continue but I just grinned, already having fun. "Some nice, lush red apples? Or a tasty fish supper?"

"Alright!" Carl pleaded. "Just stop teasing!"

I thought for a moment, and was about to bow to his request when Carol tapped on the door and said, "Jim can't go on. He, uh... he wants to be left here."

"He was clear when he said that?" I demanded. Carol nodded sadly.

"Rick thinks so," she replied softly. Carl and Sophia both sniffed, close to tears, and I exhaled deeply. Jim and I had made a connection in that damn RV. Maybe not a friendship, but we were closer than acquaintances, at any rate. The three of us got out and joined the crowd as Rick and Shane laid Jim against a tree.

"Hey, another damn tree," he commented, sounding humoured for the first time since I met him.

Shane chuckled with him and said, "Hey, Jim. I mean, you know it doesn't need to be this."

Jim breathed heavily and replied, "No. It's good." He sounded weak, but determined. "The breeze feels nice."

"Okay. Alright." Then Shane tapped his knee and stepped back into the crowd as Jacqui crouched in front of the dying man.

She encouraged him, "Just close your eyes, sweetie. Don't fight." Jacqui pecked him on the cheek and walked away, replaced by Rick, who offered him a similar revolver to the one he gave Morales.

"Jim, do you want this?"

"No, you'll need it. I'm okay," and unlike back at camp, I knew he really was. So must've Rick, since he just got up and went over to his family.

Dale stepped forward and crouched in front of Jim, giving an encouraging grin. "Thanks for, uh... for fighting for us," he told him, his tone sad, though he was doing his best to hide it.

"Okay," Jim said before Dale walked back to the crowd. They all go back to their respective vehicles and prepare to drive off.

Instead of following, I went to the man and whispered in his ear, "Close you eyes and see what I'm about to tell you in your mind's eye." He did so.

"Your family is waiting for you in front of a bright light. Every one of them is smiling happily as you walk closer and closer to them. Your sons rush forward and shout 'Daddy, daddy!' and you catch them in your arms. Tears fall from your wife's eyes. You pick up your boys and walk over to her, grinning like an idiot as you embrace your family once more, wherever it is you go."

After I finish I hear a faint, "I can see them now. They're smiling, just like you said. Thank you."

Then Jim gave out his last breath, marking one more casualty in this horrid war between living and dead.

I got up and bowed my head in respect before climbing into the Cherokee. Carl looked as though he wanted to ask me something, ask me what I'd said, but thought better of it, which I was grateful for as I kept my eyes on Jim's twitching corpse, already showing the first signs of reanimation while we left him to do so, left not a friend, but a member of our family to become the very thing we fought against as we drove off down the road.

...

We pulled up as close as we could to the CDC, and got out our vehicles, catching sight of the dead bodies littering the streets, sprawled over the sandbags, the gravel, the signs. The military had been wiped out.

The place was a... I didn't even know what to call it.

We made our way to the building, suddenly being blasted by the horrific stench of decomposing bodies. I took out my Beretta, weighing the size of the pistol's clip over the Python's stopping power and statement, although I preferred the feel of the revolver in my hand, the number of rounds might be needed, even though I noted every walker within my line of sight had a hole in their head. Flies were covering the web like hair on the dead soldiers and I heard Sophia hold back a retch.

The buzzing intensified as we neared the Center of Disease Control, all of us with our weapons at the ready. Others weren't as good as Sophia at hiding their disgust, except myself, Rick and Shane, who swallowed and kept our heads.

"Keep moving, stay together."

"Keep moving, come on."

When we passed a tank, I remembered how my brother had just joined the Armed Forces when the outbreak hit. The holiday to America was a celebration for Davie getting in. The memory sent a pang through my chest, which I quickly clamped down on. I couldn't afford to get distracted. Distraction equaled death. Not good.

"Oh, God."

"Let's go!"

"Keep it together. Come on."

"We're almost there, baby. We're almost there."

We arrived at the building and Rick and Shane were trying to open the shutters, but to no avail.

"Nothing?" exclaimed Shane. Then he started banging on them.

T-Dog said, "There's nobody here."

"Then why are these shutters down?" Rick countered. Good point. Either they were alive, or had starved to death.

Starved to death.

Just like we would if Rick was wrong. I looked at Sophia and thought about what she said. About having people not being a bad thing. I considered for a moment that maybe she was right.

Then I remembered that the Old Group camp wasn't too far from here, and last I saw it, it was packed with food and medicine. No antibiotics, but painkillers, various allergy combatters, inhalers, etc. Your basics.

Maybe she was right. And maybe we weren't doomed.

"Walkers!" Daryl called, then fired an arrow into its forehead. He turned around and glared at Rick. "You lead us into a graveyard!" he spat.

Shane defended his partner. "He made a call."

"It was the wrong damn call!"

"You shut up! You hear me? Shut up! Shut up!" Then Shane turned to Rick, who was seething and close to yanking his hair out. "Rick, this is a dead end."

Carol begged, "Where are we going to go?"

"Do you hear me? No blame."

"She's right," Lori said worriedly. "We can''t be this close to the city after dark."

"Fort Benning, Rick," Shane said. "Still an option."

"On what?" Andrea demanded. "No food, no fuel. It's 100 miles."

Glenn corrected her. "125, I checked the map."

"Forget Fort Benning!" Lori shouted. "We need answers tonight, now!"

Rick tried to calm his wife. "We'll think of something!"

I suggested, "We could try my old group." Everyone looked at me. "Last I checked, they had food, supplies. It's not too far from here. We can pick up fuel from the highway on our way out."

"Sounds good," Glenn said. "But I thought they weren't friendly."

I smiled wryly. "They're not, but we have more people, more guns. And besides, I have unfinished business there."

Everybody began shouting to get out of here when Rick called over them all, "The camera! It moved!"

"You imagined it," Dale told him.

"It moved," Rick insisted, walking up to it.

Shane told him, "Rick, it's dead, man. It's an automated device. It's gears, they're just winding down. Come on." Then he started pulling Rick back, though the man kept resisting and begging at whoever was watching us.

He banged on the shutter. "I know you're in there! I know you can hear me! Please, we're desperate! Please help us! We have women, children, no food, hardly any gas left! We have nowhere else to go!"

Lori came up and tried to convince him to come away.

"If you don't let us in, you're killing us! Please!"

Shane grabbed and began pulling him away with all his strength, saying, "Come on, buddy. Let's go." We were all shouting but Rick was louder than all of us.

"You're killing us!" His screams were inhuman, that of someone sentenced to death without a trial. "You're killing us! You're killing us!"

Then the shutter opened, engulfing us in light."

**...**

**Was the chapter to your liking?**

**Whatever your thoughts, I want to hear them.**

**See you next time.**

**SD OUT**


	14. TS-19 Part 1

**Hi guys! We're getting near the end of Season 1 of the TV show now, with just a few chapters left.**

**Reply to : I know Andrea seems like a bitch, but remember at this point in the show, from the end of Season 1 to about halfway through Season 2 she **_**is**_** a bitch. Also, blaming Jack is nothing like blaming Carl if he was the one at the time, it would be more like blaming Daryl. I'm not excusing her but the death is still very fresh in everyone's minds, and Jack blames himself into the bargain. Don't worry, she'll come to her senses.**

**Let's get started.**

**...**

**Chapter 12**

When the light began to dim Shane called, "Daryl, you cover the back," as we moved forward, into the building which may hold our salvation or destruction. Those of us with weapons had them raised, ready and alert for any dangers.

"Hello?" Rick called when we were all inside. "Hello?"

Glenn ordered, "Watch those doors! Watch for walkers!" We closed the doors and waited for something, _anything _to come. Silence.

"Hello?" Rick shouted again, louder this time, and was answered by the sound of a gun cocking. We spun in the direction of the stairs and pointed our guns at a man in his 30s wearing a grey shirt and wielding an SMG like he knew how to use it.

"Anybody infected?" the man asked loudly, addressing every one of us.

Rick answered sorrowfully. "One of our group was. He didn't make it." Jim. I could almost feel all of our thoughts turn to the man who missed his family. Everyone lowered their weapons and I followed suit, though reluctantly, and keeping my guard up. I didn't trust him yet; in the early days the soldiers were shooting anyone and anything they found, dead or alive. It was impossible to know whether the man was soldier or scientist.

"Why are you here? What do you want?"

"A chance," Rick replied.

"That's asking an awful lot these days," the man told us.

Rick, being our de-facto leader, said, "I know."

The man walked closer and I got a good look at him. He was clean-shaven with dirty-blonde hair and dense brown eyes which looked as though he had just witnessed the greatest tragedy of his life. He took a not-so-quick glance around our group, eyeing each and every single one of us in turn.

"You all submit to a blood test," he demanded suddenly. "That's the price of admission."

"We can do that."

The man lowered his weapon and ordered, "You got stuff to bring in, do it now. Once the door closes, it stays closed." I got a strange feeling from his words, as though he hadn't meant them in the way someone would normally. I felt as though someone had just walked over my grave.

Daryl, T-Dog and Glenn grabbed the remainder of our bags and rushed in as the man closed the doors and said into the speaker, "Vi, seal the main entrance, kill the power up here." The shutters came down again, locking us in this new environment.

"Rick Grimes," the Deputy Sheriff introduced himself, holding out his hand.

The man didn't take it as he replied, "Dr. Edwin Jenner."

...

The elevator was unnaturally clean. Sterile. It made me feel nervous at how similar the place was to a hospital. At the thought I inwardly shuddered. I hated hospitals. I also noticed Andrea wasn't glaring at me anymore, but her eyes were blank. Emotionless. Just like Jim's had been. Then Daryl brought our minds back from wherever they were wandering.

"Do doctors always pack heat like that?" he asked sarcastically.

Dr. Jenner breathed out through his nose and said, "Well, there were plenty lying around. I familiarised myself. But you look harmless enough." The final part was directed to the group as a rule, because Daryl was anything but harmless. From what I'd heard, he threatened to cut off some ese's feet when he went to Atlanta. Then Jenner looked at Carl and his tone lightened. "Except you. I'll need to keep my eye on you." Carl smiled abashedly at the attention.

...

"Are we underground?" Carol asked nervously as we walked through the gleaming white corridor, Jenner leading us.

"You claustrophobic?" he asked.

"A little."

"Try not to think about it," he advised.

I laughed. "Which, of course, will only make her think about it more." The doctor chuckled in agreement.

"Sorry." Then we entered a large room with computers, and the lights were off. "Vi, bring up the lights in the big room." The place lit up and I realised the room wasn't big, or large. It was _huge_! "Welcome to Zone Five," Dr. Jenner said to us before starting off down the walkway.

"Where is everybody?" Rick asked. "The other doctors? The staff?" I had been wondering that myself for a while. It seemed as though he were alone, except for Vi, which I assumed was a virtual intelligence controlling the CDCs systems.

Jenner walked into the middle of the circle in the center of the room, and answered conversationally, "I'm it. It's just me here."

"What about the person you were speaking with?" Lori inquired. "Vi?"

"Vi, say hello to our guests. Tell them... welcome."

A female computerised voice boomed throughout the room. "_Hello, guests. Welcome."_

"I'm all that's left." He noted our disheartened expressions. "I'm sorry."

...

I felt the stab as the needle penetrated my lower arm, sucking out my blood like some plastic vampire. The doctor saw me purse my lips and narrow my eyebrows.

"Ha. You don't like these, do you?" he asked, humoured. I glared, then smirked at his flinch. "Damn, little man. You've got one mean look."

I grinned mischieviously at him. "It's my specialty, right up there with stabbing freaks who want to chew my guts out." Jenner smiled sadly, reminiscently as he pulled out the needle and sent off, motioning for Andrea to come.

When the needle was in, she demanded, "What's the point? If we were infected, we'd all be running a fever!"

"I've already broken every rule in the book letting you in here," he replied tiredly, like the headmaster seeing the Weasley Twins pop out of nowhere and into his office, only this was more serious. "Let me just at least be thorough."

"His house, his rules, Andrea. Humour the lonely guy" My comment was met by another hateful glare, and the guilt came crashing back. I looked down, noticing Dale look at me sympathetically, which I hated.

When Andrea got up she stumbled immediately into Jacqui's arms.

"She okay?" Jenner asked.

Jacqui told him, "She hasn't eaten in days. None of us have." Well, that wasn't entirely true; there was the fish fry back at camp, though that didn't count as a meal. We had barely gotten started when the woods were bursting at the seams with walkers.

Still, something changed in Jenner's eyes when she said that. A small something that nonetheless made all the difference.

...

Everyone was laughing heartliy and stuffing their faces as Dale poured himself more wine. I had chicken, peas and some fries on my plate, and decided to pour a little glass for myself. I tasted it, and despite the bitterness inadvertedly checked the bottle, noticing it was a good year. It was at that point I saw Carl staring at me weirdly, then his eyes flickered to the bottle. I raised my eyebrows and nodded towards Rick, giving my best friend a challenging smirk. He returned it, taking me on as I drunk some wine right in front of him.

"You know, in Italy, children have a little bit of wine with dinner," Dale informed Rick and Lori, though mainly Lori, as he caught sight of me and Carl's little staredown. "And in France."

Lori replied, laughing, "Well, when Carl is in Italy or France he can have some then."

"What's it gonna hurt?" Rick argued, grinning. "Come on. Come on."

"Yeah," I agreed. "It's just a taster for the newbie. It won't hurt him."

Dale spluttered, "I said a _little bit_, not half the damn bottle!"

A round of laughs was sent through the table, even Andrea, who hadn't smiled since Amy's death. My failure. I almost shook my head to bring myself away from that line of thought when I saw Carl hold a glass up to his mouth as he watched me. I grinned mischieviously, though in a different manner than I had to Jenner, and nodded encouragingly.

He sipped it and spat it out.

"Urgh! That's nasty!" Carl shouted over the laughter.

Lori clapped him on the shoulder and praised, "That's my boy."

I guffawed. "Sheriff boy's a lightweight! Sheriff boy's a lightweight!"

"I'm not a lightweight!" he said indignantly.

"Then down it. Down it. Down it, down it, down it! Down it! Down it! Dow-"

He downed the glass and swallowed the lot, shuddering in revulsion. I got up and bowed mockingly.

"How can you drink that stuff?" he exclaimed disgustedly.

I told him, "Practise," quietly enough so that only he could hear it, then drunk some more of my own wine.

Shane said over the laughter, "Stick to soda pop there, bud."

"Not you, Glenn!" Daryl called to the Korean, who was examining another bottle in his hand.

Glenn confusedly asked, "What?" with a smile that said 'I am _so_ going to regret this'.

"Drink it, man!" the hunter teased. "I wanna see how red your face can get!"

"Place your bets!" I shouted, slapping the table. "Place your bets! I have 2-1 on half a bottle and he'll pass out!"

"Oi!" Glenn yelled. "That's it! I'll show the pair of you!"

"Even money on Jack being able to drink more shots!" Daryl called.

Carol, who looked amused herself, asked, "Whoa, whoa, whoa! We're actually _encouraging_ the children in our care to get drunk?" She seemed like the idea made her want to laugh and shout and the same time.

Daryl and Glenn gave each other a look over the silence and replied simultaneously, "Yeah!" Everyone got back to their conversations.

I leaned in to Carol and said, "It's not the first time. I was with my brother and his friends and while he was busy puking into the toilet, they were shoving drink after drink into my hand. Trust me, I can handle it. And besides, don't you wanna see Daryl Dixon get knocked down a peg?" I finished teasingly.

Carol though for a moment and reluctantly nodded, though she was having trouble keeping a smile off her face. Then our attentions were brought to Rick as he tapped his glass and stood.

"It seems to me we haven't thanked our host properly," he announced.

"He is more than just our host," T-Dog corrected, raising his glass.

"Hear, hear!"

"Booyah!" Three guesses who that one came from.

Rick thanked the doctor, who merely smiled back. And of course Shane had to ruin it all.

"So, when you gonna tell us what happened here, Doc?" That shut us all up. "All the, uh... the other doctors, figuring out what happened? Where are _they_?"

"We're celebrating, Shane," Rick reprimanded him. "Not now."

Shane took no notice of his tone. "Whoa, wait a second. That's why we're here, right? This was your move, to find all the answers. Instead..." and he jerked his thumb in Jenner's direction. "... we found him. Found one man. Why?"

Jenner spoke up. "Well, when things got bad, a lot of people just... left. Went off to be with their families."

I understood that. I understood it perfectly. I was doing the same thing tomorrow morning. I was going off in a car, I was going to the Old Group, I was getting Riley back and bringing her here, then search for leads to Natalie as and when I could. I understood them perfectly.

"And when things got worse, when the military cordon got overrun, the rest bolted."

"Every last one?" Shane challenged, clearly not believing the doctor.

"No," Jenner replied coolly. "Many couldn't face _walking out the door_. They... _opted out_."

No... fucking hell.

"Suicide," I asserted bluntly. The doctor nodded.

"There was a rash of them. That was a bad time."

That put a really big fucking damper on things. Thanks a lot, Shane.

Andrea said, "You didn't leave. Why?"

"I just kept working. Hoping... to do some good." I had the feeling he was keeping something back, but it was something personal, so I kept my mouth shut.

Glenn sat down, telling Shane, "You are _such_ a buzz-kill, man."

"Seconded," I agreed dully, raising my glass before depressedly taking a long drink of it, almost finishing it off. I felt the liquid burning through my body, vitalising and tiring it at the same time. The high I felt earlier was gone.

Sadness filled the air.

...

Jenner led us through the same corridor he brought us into the big room from, stating, "Most of the facility is powered down, including housing, so you'll have to make do here."

We turned a corner and down another thin passage.

"The couches are comfortable," he continued. "But there are cots in storage, if you like."

The group stopped at the end.

Jenner turned to myself, Carl and Sophia. saying, "There's a rec room down the hall that you kids might enjoy." He leaned down. "Just don't plug in the video games. Or anything that draws power."

The other two nodded hastily while I stayed still. I would probably be too wasted to mess around later.

"Same with the appliances," Jenner told everyone else as he stood up. "If you shower, go easy on the hot water." Then the bugger had the cheek to run off and leave those last two words to us.

Glenn turned around and faced the rest of the group, excitement pouring as much from him as any of us as he whimpered, "Hot water?"

"That's what the man said," T-Dog barely muttered.

We all grinned wildly and grabbed our own rooms, heading straight for the showers.

...

I let the warm liquid run over me, washing off not just the dirt and sweat and grease, but also the tiredness, the exhaustion, the guilt. All the bad feelings were cleaned off as easy as can be. I leaned against the wall and took a drink from the wine bottle I'd swiped as I took a certain matter into consideration, one I hadn't really had the luxury of time to spend on.

Sophia.

Shit, I knew I screwed up in the RV. I'd acted like the coward she'd proclaimed me as, even if for what I believed was a good reason. And I knew, even at the time, that I was acting like Ed when I was yelling in her face. I _knew_ that, and as much as I hate to admit it, I had sort of had some small _enjoyment_ from her reaction.

Was I crazy?

I also knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that I liked the blonde-haired girl. No matter what excuses I made up, I fancied her, and a burning desire within me told me to go up to her right now and kiss her, as stupid as that sounded.

She liked me back. She made that abundantly clear to me in the RV. And before she left, she told me that sometimes having someone else wasn't all that bad.

No matter the risks, I knew that I would rather have some small time enjoying what I could have with Sophia, instead of forever wondering what might have been once the chance has gone.

I took another drink and turned off the shower.

I knew what I was going to do.

...

Sophia and Carl were playing checkers in the rec room as Carol watched them with a smile on her face, switching between them and her book. I nervously walked up, said hi to Carol and sat down, bottle between my legs, asking, "Who's winning?"

"Me," Sophia asserted as though it were obvious. "I'm not the one who downed a glass of wine earlier. Not that it matters, anyway. I could beat Grimes anyday." Carl frustratedly groaned in response.

I chuckled. "You're also not the one who's drinking straight out the bottle." I took another gulp, ignoring Carl's half-hearted glare at my resistance to 'adult' drinks. "Whassa matter, sheriff boy? Can't handle getting beat by a girl?"

He smacked me, giving a small smile. "Shut up."

Sophia took the rest of his pieces, saying, "And I win again!"

"That's my girl," Carol congratulated.

"Oh, don't pout, Carl," I scolded. "It's unbecoming."

"Unbecoming?" he repeated incredulously. "Drink getting to ya?"

"Nope," I retorted. "You'll know when it's got to me; I'll be slurring and stumbling about. Hey, Sophia, can I talk to you for a minute?"

The girl nodded whilst Carl snickered. "Heard that one before." I smacked him over the head and walked out the room and into my own, followed by Sophia. I laid the bottle on the desk and sat on the edge of the bed.

We sat awkwardly for a moment until I initiated the conversation this time.

"I've been thinking. About what you said." She nodded slowly.

"About someone else not being a bad thing?"

"Yeah. And the thing is... you're right. I was just being a coward. I didn't want to face the risks."

I took her hands in my own, feeling the soft skin underneath my fingers.

"But now I know what I want. I know that I don't want to spend forever wondering what I could've done, whether I should've or not. And something else, just because you're surviving doesn't mean you're alive. If we don't enjoy anything, we're no better than walkers."

Her eyes widened and the corners of her lips turned up as she knew where I was going with this.

"I know that I want you, Sophia. I want to be with you, never mind the risks. And I-"

I was cut off by a pair of heart-shaped lips pressing into my own.

I raised my hand to her waist, pulling her closer as the other ran through her hair. Our lips molded together as though they were made for each other, moving in tandem without a care in the world. All the cares in the world, all the death and destruction, the loss, my desire for revenge, even Riley and Natalie slipped from my mind.

During that time, all I knew about was Sophia, beside me as we kissed, properly kissed, for the first time, as a couple.

**...**

**So Jack and Sophia are together now. Three cheers for scarface!**

**No, for me. Without me, the idea wouldn't even be in Jack's head. Hell, Jack wouldn't exist, so three cheers for me!**

**Hip, hip, hooray!**

**Hip, hip, hooray!**

**Hip, hip, hooray!**

**See you guys next time!**

**SD OUT**


	15. TS-19 Part 2

**Hi guys!**

**I've noticed that I've gotten the chapter numbers wrong a couple of times so that is now sorted out; I'm sorting it here.**

**Not much to say, let's get on with the next chappie!**

**...**

**Chapter 15**

"Jack?" came a voice from outside my room. I groaned in reply as a blonde-haired figure came in. After a few seconds of squinting I realised it was Andrea.

"Hey," I replied, looking at the floor. Even in my drunken state I felt ashamed. "Um..."

Andrea put a finger to my lips. "Listen. I've been giving you a hard time lately. I guess I kinda... blamed you for Amy's death."

"And you've got every right to," I agreed readily. "I could've moved faster, I could've-"

"Stop!" she insisted. "I've been giving you heat, when it's not really your fault. I know, yeah, you coulda moved faster or some shit like that, but so could Shane, or Dale. You saved her from that first walker and gave her some extra time; I can't blame you for not being fast enough to get the other two when there were two extra guns in the same place."

I digestes her words for a minute before coming to a conclusion. "You've spoken to Dale, haven't you?"

Andrea chuckled before replying, "Yeah. That old man's got a way of getting to you."

I scoffed. "A way of getting to you? He's got a way of tearing you apart from the inside out."

We laughed for a moment before Andrea stood up and said, "Look, I'm just... I'm sorry. And don't blame yourself eiither. There's never any one person to blame." And then she left.

...

I entered the big big room, where Jenner sat, completely sober. I offered him a nip, which he denied with a condescending smile.

"Are you sure you should be drinking that stuff?" he asked me. "You're a little young."

I chuckled. "Well, I got some business to take care of tomorrow. Could die doing it, so this might just be the last chance I ever get to be wasted." Jenner's smile dropped as he looked at the floor.

I slumped myself on a chair next to him as he asked me, "What's your story?" I looked up at his curious face. "I don't mean to intrude, but judging by your face and the fact that you keep a gun at your side, even in here, it..."

He trailed off and I picked it up, "Well, I came here on a plane the first day all of this started. My dad took an axe and killed a walker before we crashed. My mum died in the crash. She came back when I woke up. She would've got me if I hadn't... Anyways, after that Dad grabbed me, brother and my two sisters and pulled us into the forest. We came across this group that saved us, took us in. Then one day it all went to hell."

"Camp got overrun?" he asked, sounding sorry.

I glared at his pity. "No. My sisters were kept at camp while me, my dad and my brother went with the leader and the two runners for supplies. We came across a family, starving. A father, mother and two daughters. The leader shot the mother, made the father watch his daughters get raped by the runners, shot the father, then the daughters."

"Jesus..."

"My brother went crazy. Yelling at them, telling them they were fucking hell on Earth. The leader replied by killing him. Me and my dad ran back to camp and grabbed my 8-year-old sister while the leader snatched up my 6-month-old sister and ran off with her. We couldn't get to him so we ran. My sister went missing, my dad got bit, I put him down, went to Atlanta and found Rick. That's my story."

...

I stumbled through the corridor with bottle in hand, until I came across a rather interesting conversation in the rec room. I could tell it was Lori and Shane so I stayed outside the door; maybe I'd figure out what was going on with those two.

"How can you treat me like this?" Shane asked drunkenly.

Lori replied, as drunk as him but still able to get across her exasperation, "You're kidding, right? Because you told me my husband was dead!" Oh shit, that's not good.

"I didn't lie! Alright, I didn't!" Then I heard him chase after her and close the other door. "Do you know what it was like there? Stop!"

Lori must've stopped moving and decided to listen, which Shane began to do.

"Things were falling apart," he started painfully. "They were slaughtering people in the hallways; it was a massacre. There were walkers everywhere..."

"So you left him," Lori assumed.

"There were no doctors there!" He was shouting by this point, and I thought it was justified; he was explaining why he told her Rick was dead but she didn't want to hear any of it. Just goddamn listen! "It was just me! He was hooked up to machines, and I did not know what to do! I put my ear, I put it on his chest, and I listened for a heartbeat and _I did not hear one!_ I-I-I-I I don't know why! Maybe it was the gunfire, but there's no way he could survive there!" Shane punched the door as he yelled, "No way!"

Lori retorted calmly, "He did."

"He did," Shane agreed. "But then I had y'all to think about, didn't I?" There was some movement, like he was pushing her up against something, forcing her to listen. "I had you and Carl, and I had to think about you! I had to get you to Atlanta, that's what I had to do!" Lori tried protesting but he shut her up with, "Just stop! If you had thought for one second that he was still alive, would you have come?"

No answer.

"I saved your life," Shane continued. "You and your little boy's. That's what I did, okay? If I could have traded places with him, I would have." Good. He's a good friend. A good man. "I would trade places with him right now because..."

There was a kind of scuffle as I thought, _'Shit, maybe not.'_

"I love you."

"No, you're drunk."

"And you love me, too. There's no way you could be the way that you were..." Ah, so she was sleeping with her husband's best friend, practically brother, right after finding out about his so-called death? Either she's had feelings for the guy for quite some time or she just didn't give a fuck.

"You're drunk..."

"You love me, too!"

Then their voices were muffled, like she was shouting against his lips.

"Get your hands off! Get your hands off me!" Oh, _shit!_ He was practically raping her now.

Carl came up the corridor, asking, "Jack, have you seen my mom?" Everything in the rec room went quiet.

"Uh, no..." I answered, adding an extra slur to my voice. "In fact, wait, I think I saw her go past here and head for your room."

"Oh... okay," he replied, then turned on his heel and left.

I sighed and pretended to walk on my way when I heard the altercation start up again, with more struggling and shouting.

"Stop, stop!"

"Lori, shh! It's alright!"

"Get your hands off me! Shane!"

"Aaargh!"

There was a ripping sound, like nails through flesh, and I knew that she'd got at his neck from the gurgle! Not fatal, but it would damn hurt. After a few moments someone banged the wall and left whilst the other was crying.

I thought about going in but thought better of it and slumped on the wall and closed my eyes as I heard Lori coming my way. A small gasp escaped her lips when she caught sight of me but I stayed silent and still, but I couldn't stop the bottle from falling out my hand and dropping to the floor. Fuck! Well, it was about done, anyway. Lori picked it up and threw my arm over her shoulder, then I really fell asleep.

...

"Hey, Jack!" came an excited voice from beside me. "Wake up!"

I moaned as a splitting pain burst through my head. "Shut up, Carl. I think I finally know how a walker feels when I stab it in the head."

My friend laughed at that. "Time to get up. I'm staying right here until you shove your ass from that couch."

"How'd I get here, anyway?"

Carl chuckled, "My mom found you passed out outside the rec room. Lifted you up, brought you here." I sat up and took a look around; it was Rick, Lori and Carl's room. "You were seriously wasted."

I glared at him. "Shut up," I groaned. "This is how you know I drunk just the right amount."

Carl skeptically gave me a once-over look. "By seeing you with a raging headache and barely enough energy to get outta the couch? Yeah, right!"

I glared again and rolled over onto my feet before smacking him upside the head. "There ya go, sheriff boy. I'm up. Now let's get something to eat." I saw Rick still sleeping. "See your dad gets to sleep it off."

Carl smirked merely smirked as I followed him out.

We bumped into Carol and Sophia on our way to the big room. Me and her flushed as Carl and Carol gave us knowing looks. Carl said innocently, "Anything you two got to tell us?"

Carol smacked him on the shoulder and scolded playfully, "Don't tease them, Carl. Though while we're on the matter..."

The both of us glared at them and pushed by, as they soon followed.

When we got into the rec room the table was filled with plates of eggs; scrambled eggs, boiled eggs, poached eggs, the works. There was also bacon, beef and other kinds of meat, along with a stack of bowls and different cereal boxes on another table next to a giant 4-litre milk box. And I mean box, this thing was _huge_. Or maybe my hangover's acting up. I sat on the table and grabbed an empty plate, silently filling it with the different kinds of eggs and bacon etc. Sophia and Carl got some cereal, because they weren't hungover. Lucky bastards.

Glenn slowly raised his head and gently smacked my own, and I replied even harder, causing the Korean to freeze up in pain before going back to his breakfast as everyone laughed. After a few minutes (or maybe hours, I dunno) Rick came in, holding his own head.

"Morning," he greeted us. Most of us just groaned in reply.

Carl, on the other hand, asked pluckily, "Are you hungover? Mom said you'd be."

Rick sat down, replying, "Mom is right."

"Mom has that annoying habit," Lori teased her husband.

"Eggs!"

We all looked up at a perky T-Dog, who had bounded in with an extra pan of eggs. "Powdered, but I do 'em _good_." Jacqui came in and mothered Glenn as T-Dog continued loudly, "Bet you can't tell!" He went around pouring eggs on everybody's plates. When he got to Glenn's he remarked, "Protein helps the hangover." The Asian groaned in reply.

"Where'd all this come from?" Rick asked nobody in particular as he held up a tube of hangover pills.

He tossed it to Lori who caught it, saying, "Jenner. He thought we could use it."

Rick eyed me and Glenn, who were the only ones holding our heads and barely eating, as he commented, "Some of us at least."

"Don't ever ever _ever_ let me drink again." You already know who that came from.

"Hey," called Shane as he came in, heading straight to the water cooler, trying to hide the left side of his face.

Rick replied, "Hey. You feel as bad as I do?"

"Worse," he muttered but we all heard it.

As he came away from the cooler T-Dog demanded, "What the hell happened to you? Your neck?"

"Must've done it in my sleep," he excused.

Rick commented, "Never seen you do that before."

"Me neither." He, Lori and I all exchanged glances. "Not like me at all." We were the only ones who knew he meant last night's actions.

"Morning," Jenner said as he came in, heading for the cooler.

"Hey, doc," we all replied, even me and Glenn.

Dale said, "Doc, I don't mean to slam you with questions first thing in the morning..."

"But you will anyway," Jenner finished for him.

"We didn't come here for the eggs," Andrea told him.

After Glenn was okay to move I grabbed a cup of coffee like Jenner had and we all followed the doctor into the big big room. I tasted it on the way there; it tasted a little bitter for my taste but okay to drink.

"Give me a playback of TS-19."

Vi called, _**"Playback of TS-19,"**_ and the huge screen at the front of the room lit up with x-ray and thermal images of a human head.

"Few people ever got a chance to see this," the doc informed us. "Very few." Then the main part of the screen showed a human brain.

"Is that a brain," Carl exclaimed.

Jenner leaned in and remarked, "An extraordinary one. Not that it matters in the end. Take us in for EIV," he ordered the building AI.

_**"Enhanced Internal View."**_

The screen zoomed in on the brain and glowing lights flashed across the organ. It went all the way into the brain itself and the lights were shown to be zipping across the 'wires' inside the brain.

"What are those lights?" Shane asked.

Jenner replied, in a sort of awe, "It's a person's life. Experiences, memories, it's everything. Somewhere in all that organic wiring, all those ripples of light... is you. The thing that makes you unique and human."

"You don't make sense ever?" Daryl demanded, arms folded.

"Those are synapses," Jenner explained. "Electrical impulses in the brain that carry the messages. They determine everything a person says, does or thinks from the moment of birth... to the moment of death."

Death. It hadn't really hit me before. I hadn't thought about the experience; it just seemed like another phase of life for me, nothing to fear, but now... when we die, what happens to those synapses? Do they stay with the body? Or do they follow us to wherever we go? If they determine everything about us do we even have free will? 'Of course we do', I scolded myself. 'They give us suggestions, but it's us who make the decisions.'

"Death?" Rick inquired, walking towards Jenner. "That's what this is? A vigil?"

I didn't really know what a vigil was, but from the implication I guessed it was watching someone die.

"Yes," Jenner replied. "Or rather the... playback of a vigil."

"This person died?" Andrea asked. "Who?"

"Test Subject 19," Jenner told her, sounding sorrowful. "Someone who was bitten and infected... and volunteered to have us record the process."

"Someone close to you," I assumed. Jenner looked at me, his eyes heavy.

"... yes. Vi, fast forward to first event."

_**"Scanning to first event."**_

The screen ran quickly through and continued the playback at the image of all the lights in the brain being dimmed, with the brainstem almost totally black, the only lights in that area being small flashes of red. The peron was shaking around uncomfortably.

Glenn asked, "What is that?" He sounded a little more sobered up. In fact, we all were.

"It invades the brain like meningitis. The adrenal glands haemorrhage. the brain goes into shutdown, then the major organs."

The person stopped moving and the brain went totally black.

"... then death. Everything you ever were or ever will be... gone.

"Is that what happened to Jim?" Sophia asked her mother.

Carol told her, "Yes," looking her right in the eyes.

Everybody noticed me and Andrea's uncomfortableness as we swallowed and looked down. Jenner was about to ask what was wrong when Lori told him, "She lost somebody two days ago. Her sister. He lost his mother the first day and his father and brother not too long ago. He had to put his parents down. He doesn't know what happened to his sisters."

"I lost somebody, too," Jenner tried to soothe us. "I know how devastating it is." It didn't really help but I appreciated the attempt. I gave him a small smile as Andrea gave him a not unkind look before looking back down. "Scan to the second event."

_**"Scanning to second event."**_

"The resurrection timed vary wildly. We have reports of it happening in as little as three minutes. The longest we heard of was eight hours. In the case of this patient, it was two hours, one minute... seven seconds."

Then the red lights reappeared at the base of the brain, like fairy lights in the dark forest night, though we all knew the intention was much darker.

"It restarts the brain?" Lori said disbelievingly.

Jenner said, "No, just the brain stem. Basically, it gets them up and moving-"

"But they're not alive," Rick finished.

Jenner pointed at the screen and told him, "You tell me."

Rick shook his head. "It's nothing like before. Most of that brain is dark."

"Dark, lifeless, dead," Jenner continued. "The frontal lobes, the human part, that doesn't come back. The 'you' part. It's just a shell, driven by mindless instinct."

A flash of light tore diagonally through the skull, cutting it in two as we all jumped back.

"God!" Carol exclaimed. "What was that?"

I answered, "He shot the person. Put them down. Isn't that right?" I asked Jenner.

He said, "Vi, power down the main screen and the workstations."

_**"Powering down main screen and workstations."**_

Andrea demanded, "You have no idea what it is, do you?"

Jenner looked down before replying, "It could be microbial, viral, parasitic, fungal."

"Or the wrath of God?" Jacqui suggested.

"There is that."

I said, "My money's on a fungus. It looked like something was growing inside the brain for a moment before you shot the guy. Parasites don't grow stuff and if it were we'd all be growling animals by now. A virus is possible but they don't grow things in people's brains. They're like, flus, plagues, stuff like that. Microbes, well, they're living organisms as well, so I guess a special kind could infect and take over a brain. The growth could be the build-up of them. Still think it's a fungus, though."

"Huh," Jenner replied. "The first person to narrow it down like that is a twelve-year-old. All the best scientists from all over the world and nobody thought about it like that. At least, nobody before communications went down."

"Are you being sarcastic?" I inquired irritatedly.

Jenner shook his head. "No," he told me seriously.

"There are other facilities, right?" Lori asked.

He said, "There may be some... people like me."

"How can you not know?" Rick exclaimed.

"Everything went down. Communications, directives, all of it. I've been in the dark almost a month."

"So it's not just here," Andrea asserted. "There's nothing left anywhere. Nothing. That's what you're really saying, right?"

Jenner stayed silent as we all made our own sounds of disbelief.

Daryl told us, "Man, I'm gonna get shit-faced drunk again."

"Get in line," I said defeatedly.

Dale came forward. "Dr. Jenner, I know this has been taxing for you, and I hate to ask one more question, but... that clock."

Daryl and I stopped and rushed back, looking at the big clock on the wall that Dale was pointing at.

"It's counting down. What happens at zero?"

"The... basement generators, they run out of fuel." He sounded like he'd been dreading this moment from the way he hesitated.

"And then?" Rick insisted. Jenner didn't answer. "Vi, what happens when the power runs out?"

_**"When power runs out, facility-wide decontamination will occur."**_

...

I went into the armoury and grabbed a dozen rifles and shotguns along with a number of pistols, packing them into a big canvas bag, much like Rick's. After that was done, I snatched up as much ammo as I could and shoved it in. Lifting it up, the bag was heavy as fuck, but I slipped it onto my shoulder and hefted it into my room, laying it on the bed.

...

Rick, Shane, Glenn and T-Dog had went to the basement to check out the generators and the rest of the fuel. I was in Carol and Sophia's room, playing 21 with my new girlfriend. Not the normal kind of thing to do, but hey, it's the apocalypse, who cares?

"Stick," Sophia said confidently. I layed down my cards and she did the same,

Me:19 Sophia:20

I groaned as Sophia laughed and pecked my cheek. "Don't worry, big man," she teased. "I'm sure your luck has to pick up soon."

I glared playfully and took the cards away, holding them up in the sky as Sophia tried to reach for them. "Jack!" she exclaimed. "Give them back!"

"Nuh, uh!" I replied, a wide grin on my face. Sophia narrowed her eyes and looked me up and down for a few seconds with a mysterious smile. She leaned in close and kissed me.

The feel of her lips on mine made me forget what I was doing until she snatched the deck out of my hand and laughed.

"Oh, come on!" I argued. "That's cheating!"

Carol came over and patted her daughter's shoulder. "That's my girl."

I spluttered for a few seconds before pouting playfully, which Sophia chuckled at. "You're bad at pouting, Jack." That caused me to pout for real. "That's better." I set my jaw and stared at her.

Then the lights went out.

...

Everyone was standing outside their rooms, asking questions of the scientist strutting through the corridor.

"Why is the air off?"

"And the lights in our room?"

"What's going on? Why's everythin' turnin' off?"

Jenner answered, "Energy use is being prioritised." He snatched a whisky bottle off of Daryl and took a gulp.

"Air isn't a priority?" Dale asked. "And lights?"

"It's not up to me." Then the corridor lights went off. "Zone Five is shutting itself down."

"What the hell does that mean?" Daryl demanded as we chased the doctor onto the stairwell. He grabbed Jenner's shoulder. "Hey, man, I'm talkin' to you! Shuttin' itself down? How the hell can a buildin' do anythin'?"

Rick, Shane, Glenn and T-Dog ran into the room as Jenner muttered, "You'd be surprised."

"Rick?" Lori called from the stairwell as we followed Jenner down.

The sheriff asked, "Jenner, what's happening?"

"The system is dropping all non-essential uses of power." We all went into the big big room. "It's designed to keep the computers running to the last possible second. It'll start as we approach the half-hour mark. Ah," he pointed at the clock, which now read '00:31:28'. "Right on schedule." Jenner passed the bottle to Daryl, who snatched it back. "It was the French," he told Andrea.

"What?" she inquired, confused.

I sighed. "He means they were the last people in the whole world to hold out in their labs whilst everyone else was running off and killing themselves."

"That's right," the doctor said. "They thought they were close to a solution."

I snorted. "The entire world can't solve cancer, but a few dozen scientists, tops, can cure _this_? Please!"

Ignoring me, Jacqui asked, "What happened?"

"Same thing that's happening here," Jenner told her. "No power grid. Ran out of juice. The world runs on fossil fuel. I mean, how stupid is that?"

Shane rushed after him, saying, "Let me tell you something, you piece of shit..."

Rick grabbed his friend. "I don't care." Then he turned to the rest of us. "Lori, grab our things. Everybody, get your stuff. We're getting out of here _now!"_

We all sprinted to the hallway when the alarm sounded, blaring throughout the room. Jenner started pressing buttons on a pad.

_**"30 minutes to decontamination."**_

Shane yelled, "Doc, what's going on here, damn it! Hey, y'all heard Rick, get your stuff and let's go!" We ran for the hall again when a blast door closed on us.

"Did he just lock us in?" Glenn mumbled. "He just locked us in!"

"No sht, genius!" I shouted at him. "Jenner, let us out, now!"

The doctor ignored me, sitting on a chair and speaking to a computer, "We've hit the 30-minute window. I am recording it."

Everyone went into the center of the room as Daryl ran straight for Jenner, screaming, "You sonofabitch!" with his bottle raised. Rick shouted at Shane, who grabbed the hunter before he could smash Jenner's head in. T-Dog joined and they held Daryl back until he calmed down.

Rick stalked towards the doctor, ordering him, "Jenner, open that door now."

"There's no point," Jenner argued. "Everything topside is locked down. The emergency exits are sealed."

"Well, open the damn things!" Daryl shouted.

"That's not something I control. The computers do. I told you, once that front door closed it wouldn't open again."

I yelled, "We didn't think that's what you meant!"

Jenner just looked at me sadly. "It's better this way."

"What is?" Rick asked hotly. "What happens in 28 minutes?" Jenner didn't answer and Rick shoved him. "What happens in 28 minutes?!"

Jenner had finally had enough. He stood up and screamed, "Do you know what this place is?! We protected the public from some _very nasty stuff! Weaponised smallpox! Ebola strains that could be used to wipe out half the country! Stuff you don't want getting out! __**Ever!"**_ He calmed down and sat on his chair. Sighing, he continued, "In the event of a catastrophic power in a terrorist attack, for example, HITs are deployed to prevent any organisms from getting out."

"Are. You. Fucking. Kidding. Me?" My voice was small, but it caught everyone's attention. I slumped next to a computer. "We're trapped in here with..." I couldn't finish. I knew what HITs were.

"What?" Shane demanded. "What are they?" I stayed silent. Tears threatened to fall but I kept them in. "Kid, what are HITs?"

"... you don't want to know."

The doctor said, "Vi, define."

_**"High-Impulse Thermobaric fuel air explosives consist of a two-stage aerosol ignition-" **_People started crying at the word 'explosives'._** "-that produces a blast wave of significantly greater power than any other known explosive except nuclear." **_Everyone was sobbing and hugging their families and friends except myself and Jenner, who just kept staring at each other, and Andrea, who was staring into space, listening intently, seemingly intrigued. _**"The vacuum pressure ignites the oxygen between 5,000 and 6,000 degrees, and is useful when the greatest loss of life and damage is desired."**_

I summarised for everyone softly, "It sets the air on fire."

"No pain," Jenner continued. "An end to sorrow. Grief. Regret."

Then he looked around at us.

"Everything."

...

Everyone's attempts at opening the door were futile as I just sat, spaced out. I was trapped. What would happen to Natalie and Riley?

Natalie and Riley.

Their names flew around my head, making me regret ever coming here. If I didn't have them, I might have welcomed such an end, but I did, so I couldn't let myself die here, if I was ever to see my sisters again.

"You should have left well enough alone," Jenner told us. "It would have been so much easier."

Lori glared heavily at him. "Easier for who?!"

"You. You know what's out there: a short, brutal life and an agonising death." Then he turned to Andrea. "Your-your sister. What was her name?"

"Amy."

"Amy. You know what this does. You've seen it." And he looked at me. "What about your old group? You've seen what this world turns people into. Rapists, murderers..." He turned to Rick. "Is that what you really want for your family?"

Rick hissed, "I don't want this!"

I looked around to see Carl and Sophia in the arms of their mothers, crying and sobbing to kingdom come. I wanted to do the same, but instead I stood up and pulled out my Python. I shot Dr. Jenner in the leg and listened to him scream as everyone stared at me. I walked up to him and shoved the barrel into the wound as he groaned in pain.

"Either you open the door or we beat the code out of you," I muttered dangerously. "It makes no difference to me."

Rick came over and pulled me off, shouting, "Jack! Stop! This won't change a damn thing!" Eventually I sighed and threw the Python with so much force that it lodged itself into a computer screen. I cursed and sat back down, ignoring everyone's stares.

Jenner said to Rick, "You do want this. Last night you said it was a matter of time before everyone you loved was dead." Now we were all staring at Rick, who swallowed.

"You really said that?" Shane asked disbelievingly. "After all your big talk?"

"I had to keep hope alive, didn't I?"

"There is no hope!" Jenner told him. "There never was."

"There's always hope!" Rick said firmly. "Maybe not you, but somebody, somewhere."

Andrea shot him down with, "What part do you not get? Everything's gone, don't you understand?"

"Listen to your friend," Jenner said. "She gets it. This is what takes us down. This is... our extinction event."

Carol pleaded, "This isn't right!" as she sobbed. "You can't keep us here!"

"One tiny moment, a millisecond. No pain."

"My daughter doesn't deserve to die like this!" she wailed. Sophia and Carl weren't crying anymore, just blankly staring at the ground, like me.

"Wouldn't it be kinder?" Jenner protested. "More compassionate to just hold your loved ones and wait for the clock to run out?"

At that moment Shane burst through us with his shotgun, ignoring Rick's protests and aimed the gun at the doctor's forehead. He ordered, "Open that door or I'm gonna blow your head off!" I looked at him. Shane had a crazy look in his eyes. Rick pleaded with him not to do it; that it wouldn't get us out of here, then Shane yelled and emptied the shells into a nearby computer.

Rick grabbed the shotgun and they grappled for a bit, until Rick smacked Shane and knocked him to the ground, saying, "Are you done now? Are you done?"

"Yeah, I guess we all are."

Rick handed the shotgun to T-Dog.

Jenner pressured the gunshot and hissed in pain as Rick bent down and asked him, "Please. All we want is a chance. You stayed here working while everyone else left. Why?"

Jenner gasped and replied, "I made a promise." He pointed at the screen. "To her. My wife."

"Test Subject 19 was your wife?" Lori asked.

"She begged me to keep going as long as I could. How could I say no? She was dying. It should have been me on that table. It wouldn't have mattered to anybody, she was a loss to the world. Hell, she ran this place, I just worked here. In our field, she was an _Einstein!_ Me, I'm just... Edwin Jenner. She could've done something about this. Not me."

"Your wife didn't have a choice," Rick told him. "You do. That's... that's all we want. A choice. A chance."

Jenner didn't do anything. "You made a promise," I said, catching everyone's attention. "So did I. I promised my dad I'd find my sisters. I know where one of them is. With my old group. I can't let her stay there. And that's only one. I can't keep that promise if I die here today."

The doctor looked me in the eyes and I begged, "Please."

He sighed and said, "I told you topside is locked down. I can't open those." He pressed some buttons on a nearby keypad and the blast door opened just as Daryl took another swing with the axe.

"C'mon!" Daryl shouted as he sprinted down the hall.

"Let's go!" everyone yelled as we bolted for the exit, except Andrea, Jacqui, Dale and Rick. Rick and Jenner exchanged some words when the doctor grabbed him and whispered something in his ear. When he was done Lori snatched her husband's hand and pulled him up the walkway. I gave Jenner a nod and ran into my room, grabbing the gunbag and heading up to the top doors, where the windows were being bashed in by Shane, T-Dog, Glenn and Daryl, to no avail. T-Dog even tried whacking it with a chair.

"The glass won't break?" Sophia asked fearfully.

I said, "Course it will, Soph. We just need to find something powerful enough. Something that makes a kaboom oughta do it."

"Kaboom..." Carol muttered, then her eyes lit up. Reaching in her purse as she ran to Rick, she called, "Rick! I think I have something that might help!"

"Carol, I don't think a nail file's gonna do it," Shane scorned.

She ignored him. "Your first morning at camp, when I was your uniform, I found this in your pocket." In her hand was a grenade.

Everyone rushed backwards and got on our stomachs, except me. I just dumped myself on the bag with an admitted pain as a barrel slammed into my junk. I groaned and Daryl sympathised as Rick came bounding back, saying, "Oh, sh-"

He never got to finish his curse as the grenade exploded, blasting the window open and Rick right on top of me. He got off quick and we all sprinted off, blasting walkers as we went, most of us in the RV. After afew seconds Carl said, "Look!" as he pointed to two figures climbing out of the building.

Andrea and Dale.

They were running to the RV when Rick checked his watch and honked his horn, shouting, "Get down! Get down!" They hurried behind a pack of military sandbags when fire burst from the CDC.

The explosion sent waves throughout the entire area, throwing most of us onto our backs as brick and mortar were blasted across while fire almost engulfed us all, the blast wave almost knocking the RV on its side. There were about 5 blasts in all.

When everything was over Dale and Andrea were rushed into the RV and we drove off, leaving the eternal flame to burn as we left the remains of the first place I thought could be actually safe.

...

**ONLY ONE MORE CHAPTER LEFT OF TV SEASON 1!**

**Next time Jack finally comes face to face with his Old Group. What will take place?**

**See you then!**

**SD OUT**


	16. Revenge and Family

**Hi guys!**

**This is it. The final chapter of this act of Jack's story! Let's get on with it!**

**...**

**Chapter 16**

Darkness had hit, and we decided to move on just a little bit longer before setting down for the night. But I had other ideas.

We were close now. So close I could taste their blood. I wanted to kill them, slowly, painfully, but I had to keep a level head. I told Rick I was going to take care of the business I'd mentioned earlier, and he stared me right in the eyes.

"What are you going to do?" he asked me seriously.

I looked down for a moment, before replying, "Getting my sister back."

The sheriff thought for a moment, then ordered, "Not alone. I won't risk it. I'm coming with you."

I nodded my permission. "But you follow my lead. I tell you to run, you run. I torture those sons of bitches for information, you don't get in my way. Understood?"

Rick didn't look happy, but he agreed all the same.

* * *

We were crouched about 30 metres from the Old Group's camp. My heart was pounding in my chest. This was it. It was time to get revenge and get Riley back.

Nothing would get in my way.

Alan was on patrol. Ugly bastard. I scoured the area, and saw the old building had its doors closed, the only entrance protected by an electric fence, so that walkers couldn't burst through it. I told Rick this and he suggested we turn back.

"No!" I hissed. "This is our only shot!"

He swallowed and whispered, "Alright, we just need a way past this guard."

"Alan. He's good, but arrogant. Thinks he's untouchable, but get him in the right position and he should squeal like a stuffed pig. Easy enough."

I picked up a rock and tossed it towards a steel barrel, the red paint faded. Once it hit the mark Alan jumped out of his seat and climbed down the ladder from his little post. He called out that the 'fucker that's breaking into our shit' was gonna get sliced open if he didn't show himself now. I motioned for Rick to stay where he was and unsheathed my knife.

Being careful not to make any noise, I creeped forward, knees bent as I kept my eye on Alan, occasionally looking down to make sure I didn't stand on anything. He picked up the rock and I slipped my knife under his throat, grabbing his arms at the same time. He immediately dropped the rock and asked who it was.

"Surprise, surprise, arsehole," I murmured into his ear. "Miss me?"

He shout-whispered, "Jack?! Oh, shit! Listen, man, I didn't have nothing to do with your brother, alright? So how's about you let me go, yeah? You'll never see me again, swear."

I chuckled darkly. "You honestly expect me to believe a single word of that shit-fest? You knew _everything!_ You're too much of a nosy bitch not to have known! Fucking coward, you wanted us all thrown out the first day, wanted to kill us all and take our stuff instead of helping us!"

"Look, I know an extra way in. I give you that, you let me go. Deal?"

I snorted. "I'll think about it."

Alan swallowed nervously. "I guess that's the best I'll get from you. The window 'round the back, it's got a broken latch. Ain't nobody know about this but Hoyt. You slip in there, you oughta stay undetected. Okay, now I gave you what you want. Now you let me go, right Jack?"

I pretended to think for a moment. "... nah." I slit his throat from ear to ear and watched him fall to his knees, then his stomach.

"What the fuck are you doing?!" Rick exclaimed as he ran up behind me. "He gave you what you wanted. He was unarmed. Why'd you kill him?"

"He was a threat," I told him coldly. "They all are. You don't know them, Rick. They rape, pillage and murder for the fun of it! The world's better off without this prick." I gave the corpse a kick and snuck around the back. The window was broken, like he'd said.

I gestured for Rick to go first but he glared back, evidently still pissed at me. I rolled my eyes and climbed in, making sure to land on my feet first. The sheriff wasn't so stealthy. He slipped and fell on his face, making a noise which made me jump despite the fact that I knew it sounded louder in here than it actually was.

"Are you _trying_ to get us both executed?!" I scolded him angrily. He shrugged a 'sorry' and wiped the dust off his trousers. "Let's get moving. Try not to knock any vases down, will you?"

We glided through the corridors until we came to the old gambling room. Voices were coming, voices I easily recognised.

I shoved my back against the wall and Rick followed my example. "The runner brothers," I muttered. "Shit!"

"Why?" Rick asked. "What's so bad about them?"

I exhaled. "Apart from the fact that they're a pair of rapists, they're not that bad in a fight. We have to take them both down clean. One each. Knock them out; no killing." Rick raised an eyebrow. "This is where the torture starts." He sighed.

I grabbed a nearby object, red and shiny, not too light, either. I sneaked a peek around the corner and saw that the brothers were both sitting down facing the wall opposite. _Lucky me_, I thought as I put the marble in my pocket. I whispered to Rick, "I'll take Job on the left. You get Mickey on the right." He nodded and we moved closer and closer to them.

"And so, I says to the guy, 'Aw, was that your bitch?' And ya know what he did? He cried! Fuckin' wept his little bitch tears out! Hahaha! Then I thought 'I ain't gonna let this motherfucker get away with lettin' his little bitch tears fall onto my shoes, no sir!' So I snaps his fuckin'-"

That was when both Rick and I whacked them over the head with our guns. The brothers fell to the ground and I smirked. That wasn't so bad after all.

* * *

I had tied the brothers back-to-back on the chairs, with gags on each of them. I grabbed another seat and sat in front of Job just as he woke up. His muffled shouts of 'what the fuck!' were silenced as soon as he saw me. His eyes widened and I heard him swallow.

I grinned before muttering, "Straight to business, Job. Where's my sister?"

I pulled down the gag. "I dunno whe-" The gag was back on. I took out his long knife from its sheath and stabbed him just above the kneecap. His screams were muffled so we had nothing to worry about; we'd checked the surrounding rooms and Sam was the only one in bed. Hoyt was nowhere to be seen.

"Let's try that again. Do you know what sound a kneecap makes when it gets popped off? I hear it's... well, that. A 'pop'! Wanna find out!" He shook his head vigorously and I continued, "You know what? I think you do."

I pulled hard on the knife, yanking it towards me as I heard a nice, short 'pop' and Job screamed even louder.

"Now," I said as I removed the gag again. "Where. Is. Riley?"

"Hoyt has her. He always has her. I beg you, Jack. That's all I know, I swear!"

I replaced the gag again and said, "Okay, let's try your brother." I picked up my seat and sat in front of Mickey. I slapped him twice hard to get him up. A big red mark scorched his cheek.

"Muummpphh!" he protested in disbelievement.

I leaned in, right in front of his eyes. "Oh, yeah, Mickey boy. It's me. Now..." I stabbed him in the stomach and twisted. "Does Hoyt have my sister?" He nodded. "Does Hoyt always have my sister?" He nodded again. "Okay, where is Hoyt?" I slipped off the gag.

"Aaaggghhh... downstairs. In the cellar. Spends all his time there now. Keeps a lurker down there. Never seen it, but I've heard it. Now let us go, you little fucker!"

In reply I slit both of their throats.

* * *

On our way down we took care of Sam. Just as Mickey said, Hoyt was in the cellar, cooing over Riley, who was groaning in disgust. The sight made me sick, but I couldn't help thinking 'that's my girl'. I crept up behind the motherfucker and knocked him out with the butt of my gun.

I chained him to the wall by his chest, legs, arms, neck, even forehead. After that was done I went to my sister. As soon as she saw me, she quietened.

Despite having known her for the now 7 months that she'd been on the planet, I couldn't help but admire my little sister. She was adorable, with big blue eyes, small pouty lips, a little covering of dark hair and a cute stare. Rick came over and her gaze turned to the newcomer.

"She's beautiful," he commented.

I agreed, "Yeah." I played with her hand and she grabbed my finger. "Innocent."

"Yeah."

The sound of Hoyt waking up snapped us from our reverie.

"Ah," I greeted, removing my finger from Riley's hand. "Our esteemed host wakes. How you doing, H-man?"

Hoyt's eyes widened and he gasped. "Jack..."

"Ah, so you _do_ remember me. I'm really fucking touched!" Then my voice took a hard turn. "Did you really think I wouldn't come back? That I wouldn't kill you? If so then you need to get a new fortune-teller, you piece of shit!"

I grabbed a petrol can (gasoline to the Americans) and poured it all on him, ignoring his pleas and Rick's shouts not to. When I was done I smacked his face with it and flew it away.

"You fucking bastard!" Hoyt spluttered. "When the others get here, you-"

"The others are all dead," I told him simply. "And you're gonna burn. Here and in Hell, motherfucker."

A soft moan from the other end of the cellar caught my attention, as did Hoyt's sudden grin. I walked over and saw a sight I never thought I'd see.

My brother had turned into a walker and chained by his neck to the wall.

I breathed deeply, taking in the vision before me. I'd known he was dead for a few weeks now, but this was a whole other ball game. I wondered when he got bitten, before wiping my tears away and saying, "Sorry, Davie. I'm so sorry."

With a heavy heart I took out my Python and put a bullet through my brother's skull, ending his second life.

I took a few steps back to Hoyt and listened numbly to his taunts, until one stood out.

"Y'know, I never thought you to be evil enough to put a round into your own brother. Your own flesh and blood! Damn, I guess you must be even worse than me!"

I marched right up to him and spat in his face before taking out a Zippo lighter.

"Shit! Jack, don't. Please."

"Too late for that," I replied coldly.

"You know what? Fuck you, Jack! You're nothing but a pathetic little boy pretending to play cowboy!" I chuckled dangerously and lit the lighter, raising it in front of my face.

"Yeah, well... yippi ki yay, motherfucker!"

And I gladly dropped the lighter onto the last surviving member of my Old Group, burning the son of a bitch alive.

I hefted the baby bag onto my shoulder and took a strangely silent Riley from a disbelieving Rick, pulling him away from the scene. We left the building and stepped out onto the road. I turned around and muttered, "Good riddance," and stalked off down the road with Rick, Hoyt's screams fading into the darkness.

* * *

"Where the hell have you been?" Shane demanded as Lori pulled Rick into a hug and everyone stared at Riley. "What the fuck..."

I answered lightly, "Told you. Had some business to take care of. Besides, I've been talking about getting them back since I first joined you guys."

Sophia stepped forward. "Is that Riley?" When I smiled warmly and nodded she stroked my sister's cheek. "She's adorable!"

"Yeah," Carol agreed. "She is."

Once everyone had seen their share of our new group member, to make for the loss yesterday, I sat in the RV with her. Her unblinking blue eyes, a result of our mum, no doubt, gazed in awe at her surroundings.

"You like our new family, Riles?" I asked softly.

She gurgled in reply.

"Me too."

* * *

**And that's the first season finished! Hope you enjoyed the ride as much as I did. Your positive comments and constant encouragement have helped me continue with it even when it's been a little hard.**

**I should have the second story up by the end of the month, but until then, cheerio! Unless you read 'Use Me' that is!**

**SD OUT**


End file.
